Red River Blue
Chapter 59
River shifted her hips slightly in the saddle, letting her horse guide the movement of her legs. Growing up in her small town's trashiest trailer park, she never saw herself becoming a well seasoned horsewoman. Riding horses was for rich girls. Girls whose families could afford to buy them a horse and a stable to keep it in. River's mother could barely afford to buy groceries. But then the outbreak came. The great equalizer. And when gas became scarce, alternate forms of transportation became a necessity. River learned to ride along with everyone else, regardless of the size house they grew up in or what they did for a living before the turn.
River pulled her sunglasses off, hooking them onto the low neckline of her shirt. The area they'd slowly wandered into was shaded with enough tall trees that she didn't need them. Merle was ahead of her, riding the large black mare that he preferred. That particular horse was more used to the contraption Eugene rigged to the saddle for Merle so he could guide the horse with his bad arm. River's eyes lingered on her husband's strong muscular back before she scanned down, licking her lips at the way his ass and thighs were shifting with the movements of his horse. Yep, she thought, I'm about to get me a piece of that later.
As River twisted the top off her canteen and took a sip, Merle pulled his horse to a stop. He swung his leg over, lowering himself almost soundlessly to the ground. River fought the urge to call out to him and ask what he was doing. If Merle saw a deer or a wild boar up ahead, she didn't want to spook it with her loud mouth.
"Looks like a campsite," Merle said, motioning for her to climb down and join him.
River wrapped the reins of her horse around the pommel and swung her leg over, landing on the ground with a soft crunch of leaves. With how much heavier they were than her, she could never figure out how Merle and Daryl moved so much more quietly in the woods than she did. Shrugging her noisy landing off for the moment, River tiptoed towards her husband. Leaning into Merle's side, she glanced around the clearing. Merle was right. Someone, or more likely a few someones, had been camping there. There was a spot cleared out for a campfire with a spit positioned over it. And a few dilapidated sleeping bags were strewn about. The bags had clearly been left out in the rain for some time. They were covered in mildew and leaves and the stuffing was visible in a few spots where the fabric had been ripped apart by birds or some sort of small rodents that were looking to make a nest.
Moving away from Merle, River headed across the clearing and crouched down. There was a backpack leaning against a tree. From the condition, it had likely been there as long as the sleeping bags. But that didn't mean there was nothing good inside. River unzipped the pack before she turned it upside down, spilling the contents onto the ground and poking through them with a stick. She didn't find anything that would be of much use. There were some moldy clothes and a lighter that didn't work. The only item of interest was a ziplock baggie containing a stack of pictures that had clearly been taken before the outbreak. River pulled them out of the baggie, shuffling through and feeling pity for the happy people in the photos. People that most likely died horrible violent deaths. Tucking the photos back into the bag, River sealed it up and stuffed it in her back pocket, ignoring the side eye that Merle was giving her. The kids liked to look at old pictures from before the turn. And even if they didn't, it felt wrong to just toss the photos away like garbage after someone saved them carefully all these years.
"Ya think the dead came through and got 'em?," River asked, kicking around the pile of leaves near the firepit to see if anything was underneath.
"Dunno," Merle offered with a shrug. "Could be. They were sleepin' on the ground with no perimeter set up."
River nodded, widening her search around the campsite to see if the dead campers left anything useful behind. She moved carefully. Something about the place was giving River a bad feeling in her stomach. If these people were overrun in the night, their weapons and supplies would still be here. Stepping over a fallen log, River spotted the first dead body. It was stripped naked. Decomposition had begun, but there was enough flesh left that River could tell it was the body of a woman. And from the dark bloody scratches around her wrists and the dried blood between her thighs, it was obvious that the woman had been violently raped before she died. River turned her away from the scene, leaning against a tree and taking a few deep breaths to calm her stomach. When she opened her eyes, she spotted what she guessed was the rest of the camp's former inhabitants.
There were more naked dead bodies stacked up near a large tree. And against her better judgment, River headed towards them. At least none of them were children. But that was about the only saving grace of the whole disgusting scene. River stepped past the pile, spotting one more body lying face down near a fallen tree. As she approached, she saw something else. Her scream brought Merle barreling through the camp to her side. And she pointed towards the mutilated body and the large patch of human skin that had been skillfully removed from its back and draped over the fallen tree. Merle took the stick from her hands, sliding it under the large section of skin and lifting it into the air. River buried her face in his chest, not wanting to get a better look than she already had.
"Are we on the wrong side of the border?," she asked, wiping her shaking sweaty hands off onto the thighs of her jeans. Merle shook his head.
"We're at least a mile inside," he said. "They crossed the border. And killed whoever was campin' here."
"I don't like this," River urged, tugging him by the shirt as she edged back towards the horses. "Let's get the fuckin' hell outta here."
They'd been operating under the assumption that the whisperers intended to keep their part of the bargain and stay on the land they claimed for themselves. If they weren't, then it wasn't safe for her and Merle to be out alone. They would need to go back to only leaving the walls in larger groups. Like they did for a while after last summer's attack.
Merle took one more look around the place, trying to determine how long ago the campsite was attacked. If he had to guess, he'd say it happened within the last few weeks. Since the snow melted away. If the bodies had been there all winter, the wildlife would have picked them clean by now.
River swung herself up onto her horse, letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding once Merle was seated on his. They turned and began traversing more slowly then she would like back through the woods. It wasn't until the woods opened up and she saw the wide flowing creek that River realized Merle had led them to the very edge of the border.
"I just wanna take a look. See if there's any other sign of 'em," Merle explained, trying to ignore the look of betrayal on River's face. And the fear in her eyes. Merle knew she was scared to come this close to the border. Even if he was with her. And it made him angry that River didn't trust him to protect her. And why should she, he asked himself. He couldn't keep Beth safe. Or Sam. Merle wasn't angry with his wife for being scared. He was angry with himself for letting all that happen. For letting those skin freaks get the jump on him.
Despite the unseasonably warm weather and the scenic view of the flowing creek, Merle and River rode through the woods in awkward silence. The fact that she continued to follow him despite her fear didn't escape him any more than the way her long ponytail swung with the movement of her horse. Or the way the sun was reflecting off her dark hair. Looking at her now, Merle could still remember the first time he saw her.
Daryl was hiding from their dad. Out in some stupid fort he dug in the woods. And Merle went looking for him. To tell him that the old bastard finally left. Their father was a long haul trucker. Absent for much of their childhood. Which was probably the only reason they made it out from under his thumb alive. When Merle lifted the hatch and looked inside Daryl's dugout, two dirt smeared little faces were peering out at him instead of only one. Merle expected his brother's little accomplice to be frightened of him. Especially once he realized she was a girl. But she wasn't. River let him lift her out of Daryl's underground fort without hesitation, regarding him with a glance that was more curious than cautious. Yer Daryl's brother, she announced with a big grin, as though that wasn't already painfully obvious. My mom says yer nothin' but trouble.
"Do ya still think we're the heroes in all this?," River asked, pulling her horse up alongside his and shaking him out of his memories. She chewed at her bottom lip for a moment before she let it slip back out from between her teeth with a wet pop. "I mean… We took her daughter from her. Maybe they did what they did because they felt threatened."
"We didn't take Lydia. She left because she wanted to be with Sam. You remember how she looked when we took 'er in. If her fuckin' ma was so worried, maybe she shoulda made sure her kid was gettin' fed," Merle huffed as he thought over River's words.
He understood River's point. Everyone was the hero of their own story. But hero or not, he wasn't busting into campsites to rape and skin random people alive. That alone made these people sick weirdos at the very least. No one would be safe until they were found and snuffed out. And even if that wasn't the case. They still needed to die for what they did.
River's horse pulled ahead, traversing the incline at a quick pace. But when she reached the top of the hill, she pulled the animal to a stop. Merle joined her, following River's gaze. Down on the bridge that marked the edge of the territory Alpha claimed there was a small group of walkers shuffling around near a burned out car. Merle turned his horse towards the path that would take him down to the bridge.
"Don't," River pleaded. "It might be them."
Merle ignored her sound advice, kicking in his heels and sending his horse flying down the steep hill. When he hit the middle of the bridge he swung down off the animal's back, stabbing the first walker through the head with the knife on the end of his arm piece. He took out the next one in the same manner. But it was the third that managed to grab ahold of him, backing him into the side of the burnt out car. He felt another walker clawing at his ankles. He didn't see that one there. Under the car. River swung the long machete she'd been favoring lately, slicing through the first walker's head before she leaned down and stabbed the other one through the eye socket.
"If that was them, you'd be fuckin' dead right now Merle!," she hollered. "And it wasn't them. And ya still almost died. What the fuck were ya thinkin'?" River tucked her long blade away before she slammed her hands against his chest. Tears were streaming down her face as she repeated her question. "What the FUCK were ya thinkin' doin' that shit?"
Merle turned, letting out a stream of foul obscenities as he kicked the snot out of what was left of the car behind him. He kept going until River grabbed him and drug him back to stop him from hurting his foot. He wrapped his arms around her, crushing her against his chest.
"Daryl acts like he's got the fuckin' monopoly on misery 'cause he took the boy in and raised 'im. But we all loved that fuckin' kid. And Beth. She didn't deserve that shit."
River didn't say anything. She just hugged him tight and let him hold her as long as he needed to. Merle spent most of the winter focusing on Daryl's well being. He took to the bottle after Carol left. And it got so bad Merle had to lock him up to keep him from hurting himself or someone else. With all that going on, River knew her husband never really had time to process his own pain. Or to grieve the loss of his nephew and the girl that had become like a daughter to him over the years.
"I'm still here," River whispered. "...And I love you."
Like a balloon that popped, River finally felt the tension release from Merle's body. He held her more gently against him, leaning down to brush his lips against hers.
"I love you too," he replied, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers. "Wanna ride double with me on the way back?" River leaned into him, deeping their kiss before she pulled back and answered.
"You know I do."