Merle wondered if the end of the world was really the best time to get sober.
Damn it all, if he didn't get something to take the edge off soon, he would shoot someone.
Probably Ed.
Or Blondie.
Maybe even his dumbshit soft brother.
The doctor had become a recluse who only spoke to Blondie and that was more like barked demands for fresh walkers. The man threw a fit when they took the teenagers' bodies to be cremated. Said he needed to run more tests, that he needed more samples, needed more equipment, and nothing anyone said could deter the man. Jenner claimed it was for Candace. Merle wasn't sure what he was feeling other than rage but it was bubbling in his chest for the last week.
Andrea, the stupid cunt, was pregnant. That wouldn't have bothered him none except people started making assumptions. Even Blondie had been giving him the cold shoulder, then he guessed her sister told her the truth because suddenly she was apologetic. It made him want to heave, he didn't know what to do when she was all…whatever the hell happened to her. Usually, when they got down to planning, Blondie would argue but now she was constantly just letting him do whatever the hell he wanted. It should have been a good thing. He had power over their leader but he…missed her snarky comebacks.
"The hell's wrong wit' you?" His brother punched him in the arm, scowling down at him. "You the one that said ya wanted just us. Now ya sittin' there like a damn kicked dog!"
"Man, you eva wonder if you' the damn problem!"
"Fuck that sposed ta mean?" Daryl practically hissed like a wet cat.
"You!" Merle finally let all the rage he had been trying to keep in out and it felt amazing! "Actin' like you're really somethin'! Walkin' 'round like the big man now that ya got your dick wet!"
"Me and her ain't none a ya damn business!" He didn't cower away from his brother, he needed this, could almost feel the way his knuckles were going to split and bruise. "Ya can't say shit like that!"
"You gonna stop me, ya little bitch?" He pushed his little brother away but was shocked when his head snapped to the side and he found himself on his ass. Daryl punched him. Merle rubbed his jaw, his vision fading and all he wanted was to hurt.
"Fuck's your problem, Merle?" He should have stayed down, Merle knew it but he couldn't and the next thing he knew he tackled his brother to the ground.
It didn't matter that they lived in a world where the dead were coming back to eat them and people were just as quick to end you for your last can of beans. Merle didn't like change. For decades, it had been him and his brother against everyone else. The location might be different but the end result was always the Dixons leaving when shit got hard. He knew, if he asked, Daryl would probably leave with him. The young hunter may waffle a bit about Blondie and those kids but they weren't blood. It could be like old times, just him and his brother on the road but where the fuck would they go? Merle had just jabbed Daryl in the kidneys when he felt something wet and warm on his forehead.
"What the fuck?" Merle was shaken from his rage by a cow that was a little skinny and looking at the Dixon brothers with big, watery brown eyes.
"Fuck you." Apparently Daryl wasn't so quick to forget since Merle found himself on his ass once again, breaking the silent staring contest he was having with a goddamn cow. "Fucking asshole. The fuck?"
The cow was joined by its small family of six, all of them crowding the brothers making awful high pitched whines. Merle was never a farm boy but he had done enough work on farms through the years since it was temporary and under the table. He had never heard the animals make a sound like that.
"Damn, gotta bring this bitch back for Mrs. Beaner." Merle remembered, vaguely, promising the hispanic woman a whole ass cow for her burritos. She had been giving him a look for months every time he ate her cooking. Well, it might be worth it since that woman knew what she was doing in the kitchen.
"Who?"
"You know…mexican lady with all them kids."
"Miranda."
"What I said." Merle said absently, glancing around to find more cows stumbling towards them. His brother whistled and pointed to something in the distance, it was a silo.
"Probably where they come from." Daryl stated the obvious and he rolled his eyes, pushing one of the cows away from him when it pressed its nose into his side.
"Git!" Ignoring the hunter, he moved to his bike and shifted through the saddle bag for the binoculars he knew were there. Jean had a tendency to over pack when they sent out teams, it was getting ridiculous, the Dixons had to turn down two extra duffle bags with tents and sleeping bags. Even Blondie agreed it would just take up space since there were so many abandoned houses they could crash in if they needed.
"Whatcha see?" Daryl demanded immediately, giving Merle the sudden urge to punch him in the face again.
"I still lookin'!"
"Give me that." Merle was shocked when the binoculars were ripped from his hands and it was only another cow cutting between them that stopped the man from tackling his brother to the ground.
"Bitch, I know-"
"Looks like the farmers left 'em to fend for 'emselves." Daryl ignored his fury, tossing the binoculars back negligently before turning back to his bike.
"Don't ignore me, Darylina." Merle ground out but his brother flipped him off and revved his bike, making the cows scuttle back.
"Gonna call it in." Was the only reply he got.
"Bitch." Merle grumbled to himself, roughly biting through the tough jerky that had been packed for him. It was some of Edwin's special reserve stock that he had squirreled away after finding them at a small convenience store. Too spicy for the pansies at camp but before the other men could make a game out of it, the doctor had taken the entire plastic tub of homemade jerky.
"You gonna tell me what crawled up your ass and died?" Daryl demanded once he put the walkie away.
"You a bitch." Merle chewed loudly, disappointed when his brother didn't even flinch then he remembered his brother had the worst manners.
"Tony said they would be here in an hour." Daryl made it a point to yank the keys from his bike and stared at him.
"Wanna braid each other's hair, ya little pansy bitch?" Merle smiled when he got a flinch but then his brother glared with hardened resolve. "Just sick of lookin' at your face."
"Don' be askin' me ta come on these if your just gonna pussy foot 'round then." Daryl shook his head with a sneer, turning back to his bike. "Got betta things ta do than wrestle on the roads with my dipshit junkie brotha."
"Oh, you mean like play daddy?" Merle was offended and surprised, Daryl usually settled things with a harsh punch or a command to shuttup. "Cupcake ain't exactly subtle, runnin' around sayin' she's gonna shoot a bow like 'er daddy."
"Man, you wanna talk?" His little brother laughed, his face twisted into a nasty smile that he had seen many times in the mirror. "You got all them kids followin' you like ducklin's and you wanna bitch they callin' me daddy? Ya jealous?"
"Jealous?" Merle matched his tone, taking a couple steps forward so he was right in his face. "Man, you think just cause you fuckin' some lady that took them in, you somethin'? Think you aint the same redneck trash you always was? Don' forget, little brother. I'm your blood, ain't no one gonna love you but I'm still here."
"Don'."
"You think I couldn' a got wit' Blondie?" Merle grinned savagely, never knew when to stop, never was afraid to push his brother too far. "Think she's gonna keep you with betta options out there? If I wanted, I coulda had her on the road. You know I don't mind 'em a little sloppy."
"I said don't!" He was shoved back but it only egged him on.
"She a screamer, brother?" Merle was fast, lashing out to wrap his arm around Daryl's neck and putting him in a choke hold, rubbing his knuckles along his greasy scalp harshly. "I done taught you right, boy, but don' forget you ain't-"
"Fuck off!" Daryl twisted wildly and the old redneck grabbed onto his shirt before hearing it tear. What he found on his brother's back knocked the breath out of his lungs. It was worse than his own, layers of scars and raised skin, there was even a mostly finished letter D, it didn't take a genius to figure out it was their father's handy work.
"I didn'..." Will Dixon always claimed his youngest son was practically a girl so he couldn't beat him…but that didn't stop him from hitting his mother or any other woman he was with.
"Yeah, ya did." Daryl shook his head, looking resigned and empty. "S'why ya left."
"Ya said!"
"You a simple minded piece a shit!" Daryl was suddenly full of fire, pointing a finger in his face as if accusing him of leaving the marks. "Ya lit out n' left me wit' 'im even though ya knew what he was!"
"I woulda killed him!" Merle was honest when he believed that his father would never lay a hand on his soft baby brother. Will Dixon beat his son bloody because he couldn't control his anger and needed to be taught a lesson. He beat his women because they disobeyed him, there was never a reason for him to hurt Daryl. His brother should have been safe. "I woulda killed 'im."
"Yeah and ya left me ta do it instead." Daryl shook his head before turning his back on his brother. "Just like everythin', leave it ta me to clean up your mess."
"Ya told me he never touched ya!" Merle was still stupefied that his brother's scars matched his own, were worse than his own.
"Well, I lied." He said it simply, like he should have known. How could he? There was no reason for Will Dixon to hurt him, Daryl always listened and never talked back. "Just keep it down till they get here."
It had been months since he last had a little something and he was pissed that when he was coming down and vulnerable he told his brother when the last of his stash was. He knew that Edwin kept some of it in his bus when they were on the road but he could never figure out where. Not that it was a problem before they found the school. It was easier when there was the constant threat of death around every corner, he needed to stay sober and alert. Now, he had days where the most exciting thing to happen was someone found a weird place with stashed porn.
In a school that large, there were a lot of hidey holes.
His brother just needed to see, it was all temporary, just like everything else in their lives. They spent years on the roads of Georgia, Daryl should know that eventually they would have to leave and not to get fucking attached. It was the goddamn end of the world, there was no place left for that apple pie life. Even though he liked Blondie and the kids were…and Ed….it was better for everyone if they just accepted the truth.
"Just don' want you to get hurt." Merle had been quiet long enough and he felt like he needed to defend himself but ignored the revelation that his father didn't need a reason to lash out. "Blondie ain't gonna stick 'round."
"Yeah, you done said that." His brother didn't look bothered but Merle knew him well enough that he could see the signs that his words affected him. "Me and Amy ain't none of your damn business, just keep it ta yourself!"
"You the one walkin' around in a damn fantasy." Merle wanted to forget that he had ever seen his brother's back. "They ain't your kin."
"Man, will you fuck off." Daryl snapped, keeping his gaze focused on the horizon. "Just 'cause Andrea is bein' a bitch ain't no reason ta take it out on the rest of us."
"Damn cunt is blamin' me for being knocked up." Merle felt his pulse throb at the reminder. "Stupid slut shoulda kept her legs closed."
"Well-" Daryl's rebuke was cut off by a groan, three walkers were stumbling through the tree line, covered in fresh blood.
"Shit." Merle was quick to pull his knife, making sure to keep an open space so his brother could take his shot. Damn fool and his bow, should have gotten him a recurve or something but Connor stole that damn crossbow and let him pick it up for free since he had to offload it.
"Merle!" His brother's voice warned him just as a cold dead hand grasped his shoulder, he turned to find half a dozen just behind him. His knife slid into its skull like a spoiled melon, unfortunately, the rest of the body fell forward with the others cascading after it. Gun fire pierced the air and all he could do was curl up under the dead corpse with his arms protecting his head.
"Goddamn, you Dixons know how to find trouble." Tony grinned from his place on top of the SWAT van.
"I thought you said your friends were north?" Jen asked in a cold, clipped tone. Even though they had learned to rely on each other, the woman made it clear that she didn't want to even breathe the same air as him.
"Well, excuse me, Princess." T drawled sarcastically, not in the mood to deal with the woman's bitter and venomous words. "Let me just ask these walking corpses to get in the left hand lane, hey maybe they can help out with moving cars!"
"So, you want a pregnant lady to push cars?" She snapped back, her cheeks quickly turning red in rage. "I cook, clean, kill walkers, carry supplies just 'ca-"
"I just meant I would like some help to do the heavy lifting." The argument wasn't a new one and he already felt exhausted from the first time she opened her mouth that morning. T was starting to understand what people meant about henpecked husbands, sometimes responding just wasn't worth it. "I'm not tryin to-"
"Holy shit!" Jen suddenly reached across the consel and slapped his arm repeatedly. "Stop, dumbass! Stop, it's James!"
The RV came to a screeching halt just as he saw a glimpse of flaming red hair disappear between a couple of broken down cars. The tires had not even stopped rolling before Jen threw herself out of the bus to start shouting and waving her arms around like a lunatic. Was it awful of him that for just a brief moment he was tempted to just drive away? James could take care of her, it was obvious that she didn't enjoy his company. The supplies would last twice as long…maybe more since the pregnant woman spent most of her day snacking and throwing up. He had brought up rationing once and his nipple was still numb.
"T!" Jen slapped her hands against the window with a furious scowl. "Get him! I can't run, my feet are swollen!"
"Shit." He huffed under his breath and stowed his hand gun in the back of his pants, he figured that having a weapon out and ready would scare the man away. After jogging down the road to the last place he had seen him, he cupped his hands over her mouth. Only to hesitate, what if a herd was nearby? Before he could make a decision a rifle barrel was shoved in his face.
"Down on the ground, hands in the air!" T looked up into the prettiest brown eyes he had ever seen. It struck him dumb and mute, her hostility didn't take away from how attractive the woman was at all and he was shocked to that it disturbed him so much. It wasn't like he had not seen beautiful women since the world ended, Hell, Jen was gorgeous even if she had the personality of a porcupine.
"Back up!" Speak of the shrew and she was there in all her pregnant glory with her own gun aimed for the beautiful woman's head. "Bitch, did I stutter? Put the gun down, now!"
"Wait, Sasha!" Another man ran from the trees, he was huge with a very impressive beard and the same gorgeous brown eyes. Little weird for him since he had never found men attractive but he would lay the blame on Sasha who was staring at Jen in shock.
"Jen?" James finally came out from behind the large man, a bright smile lighting up his face. "Jen!"
"James….?" A choked sob left the pregnant woman's mouth, dropping her gun to the ground before running into his arms.
"Sasha." The man rebuked the woman again, looking at her pointedly while she continued to watch the reunion in confusion.
"I thought we were running?" A skinny middle aged man was huffing when he finally made his way to the road, stopping to pant with his hands braced on his knees.
"Jerry, Sasha, Tyrese meet Jen!" James took a step but kept an arm around her shoulder with a bright smile that matched the pregnant woman's. It was the first time T had seen her look happy at all but he was a little preoccupied with the gun still level with his nose.
"Uh, could you lower the gun, now?" T tried to keep his tone even but they all turned to him with equally surprised looks.
"Jen, who's this?" James actually made a move to put himself in front of the woman, as if he would hurt her.
"This is Theodore-"
"It's T-Dog."
"-Douglas." Jen carried on as if he had not spoked at all, waving a dismissive hand towards him. "We got out together."
"I think we're missing a couple steps-" He stopped when he felt the cold metal of the gun on his skin.
"He's harmless." Jen rolled her eyes, barely turning away from James as if he would disappear if she didn't keep her gaze on him.
"James told us a little about the kind of people he's run into out there." Sasha said harshly, giving him a pointed look that pissed him off.
"Yeah, and I was the one that killed the fucker who was trying to repeat his performance." T snapped back, it didn't matter how gorgeous the woman was, he was not a rapist. "Tell them, Jen."
"Yeah." Her voice had gone soft and distant, making him feel guilty. "He…Theodore stopped him."
"Oh."
"Creeps!" Jerry shouted, breaking up the awkward silence.
T saw that there were only three and rushed forward his knife, only James following him into action with a tire iron. It didn't take long to take them out, with his hands shaking slightly when the adrenaline left his body. Not everyday he was held at gunpoint and he once again regretted leaving with Rick. The only positive of his leaving was that Jen lived, everything else he regretted deeply. He wished he didn't know that Duane and Carl were still missing, that Rick was losing his mind, that monsters like those soldiers wandered around terrorizing people, and he prayed every night that everyone in the group was okay.
"Damn." Sasha whistled, dragging him out of his thoughts and he turned to find her watching him with an impressed expression.
Amy was surprised when Daryl called in that he found cows, he was being pissy so he didn't say how many. When Tony got there with only a horse trailer and George and Tater for back up, the soldier immediately called back for more reinforcements. Fifty six cows. Fifty six cows had somehow eluded the walkers who tore down the pasture fences and pursued them. Ideally, when she thought of animals, she fantasized about those miniature cows that were probably photoshopped to look adorable and entice people into homesteading or buying acres of land out in the country.
"The only way to move them would be to drive them." Herschel had been brought with them since he was the only one who had experience in owning large farm animals.
"Drive them…" Amy glanced at the convoy in obvious confusion. They had searched the farm but there was nothing they could squeeze fifty six cows into and there was no way she was leaving a single one behind. Only a single eighteen foot cattle trailer that looked like it had seen better days, she doubted the dry rot tires would get them back to the school, if the support boards lasted that long.
"Thankfully, the horses were well and healthy." The old man ignored her question, she wasn't sure if it was just a ploy since he liked that he had the answers for once or that he thought she was joking.
She wasn't, Amy had no idea how they were going to drive them anywhere because she didn't think her truck would hold a single cow's weight unless it was one of the calves that had been locked up in the barn. There were stables on the opposite side of the property that had a couple dozen walkers surrounding it but other than the horses being a little skinny, they were just fine. The chickens, pigs, and farm owners were not as lucky. The pantries were empty and the owners died in their beds, it made her sad that they had not been found sooner.
"Cattle dribe! I been wantin' tuh do it jes like de old westerns!" Tater exclaimed, startling the cow he had been petting. ("Cattle Drive! I always wanted to do it just like the old westerns!)
"This is going to take hours." Amy grumbled, looking up at the midday sun in worry. The days were shorter and she really hated that they would still be on the road after dark but this could not wait.
"Hooo-wee!" Merle was rocking precariously on the horse he had found, a goddamn cowboy hat on his head. His brother was next to him, scowling at anyone who dared meet the pissy man's gaze. He too was wearing an old holey cowboy hat. "Let's gitter done!"
She had driven across the state in the zombie apocalypse, had planned to live her twenties by being a nomad in her bus. If she never drove again, it would be too soon. Apparently, cows can't run. Or they shouldn't run because then there is the danger of a stampede and the cattle getting injured or lost. Herschel really enjoyed leading the expedition, the old man had sent more than a couple smug looks her way. However, she had no idea what to do with them and, unfortunately, her potato farmers didn't either.
"That is some fucked up Final Destination shit." Amy muttered to herself when she saw the wreck. Nothing was scarier than driving behind a wobbly log truck. Luckily, there was enough room that they didn't need to move it, she had already sent part of the group back to the school to warn them and to start building fences in one of the fields.
"Hey, Blondie." Merle had galloped forward, ignoring Herschel's orders to return to his place. Just to be petty, Amy didn't say anything, just looked up at the sweaty redneck with a raised brow. The truck was practically idling and the heat was barely churning out room temperature air. "That gave me an idea."
"Yeah, I always switch lanes." She nodded in understanding, the blonde had seen the movie. "Never drive behind a log truck."
"Nah, we use the wood."
"I guess its always good to have firewood, just in case."
"Bitch, would you let me explain?" Merle snapped at her and she turned her head slowly to glare at him.
"Bitch, I will swerve and knock your ass off that horse."
"Bitch, we use that to block tha road!" The old redneck looked amused, completely ignoring her threat. The worst a fall would do at their speed was break a leg, probably. It wasn't like his hard ass head was in any danger.
