A/N Thank you so much everyone! Merle is on the mountain, while Daryl is somewhere near the prison looking for him. What next?
The Prison
Unless Daryl runs into trouble with humans or walkers, or he has to detour from his planned route again, he's only about an hour and a half from the prison. Close, and he's anxious to get there and see for himself what the situation is, but shit, it's going to be dark in another hour. It would be a real bad idea to approach the prison at night when he has no idea what the circumstances will be.
It's time for another new plan. He's looking for someplace to stop for the night. It's not like before when a guy could just pull over on one of these backroads and be set for the night. No one would be coming by. Now? Shit, who even knows what way it is? It could be quiet all night, or a group of those walkers could come around, or worse, some humans with bad intentions.
He's been driving slowly, scoping things out for about 15 minutes, when he notices the trees get a little denser up ahead on the left. He could pull the van in there, try to camo it a bit and hunker down for the night.
He pulls off and drives as far back in the trees as he figures he can without getting stuck, then uses fallen branches to hide the van as best he can. Shit, why do all of these utility vans have to be painted bright white. He steps back, checking his work. It's good enough. Odds are no one's coming this way, and even if they were, they're not searching through clusters of trees to find something to steal.
He'd like to eat the ramen he brought, but building a fire seems like a real bad idea. The flames, the light, the smell, even the heat are liable to attract humans and walkers alike. Shit. This new world is a real pain in his ass. He settles for jerky and granola bars. It doesn't make a very satisfying dinner, but it'll do the job of filling him up. At least it's something, there have been times in his life when he got no dinner at all.
He pulls the lever below the passenger seat and rotates the chair so it faces the back of the van, uses his back pack like a footstool, and smiles as he covers himself with the blanket. Beth, shit, he wishes she was here with him. No, wait, not really. Why should she have to spend the night in a setup like this. What he really wishes is that he was home with her now and they were laying in that big new bed.
He can't be thinking about that stuff right now, he's got to come up with a plan, but it's nearly impossible to develop a plan when you don't know what you're walking into. If Grimes was right, if the guards just said fuck it, opened the prison gates and let everyone loose, then he doesn't expect to see any living people still there. Just walkers. There's no way Merle would hang around a minute longer than he had to, but maybe Daryl can get a bead on which way his brother headed.
Sleep comes in short spurts between long stretches of worry and feelings of frustration about not being able to just pick up and go. Daryl's trying to be patient, but it isn't working out so well, and just before first light he's moving the chair back around, stowing everything, checking the ammo in his guns and the bolts in his quiver, and he's ready.
He has trouble about 45 minutes in. A fucking flat tire. Shit, seriously? He'd given some thought to not even bringing the spare, he'd have a little more room without it. Thank God he thought better of that dumb ass idea.
He gets the tire changed without incident, but he's pissed anyway and no sooner does he get going again than he runs into a small group of four walkers. He'd ignore them but they're right in the middle of the road. For a moment he thinks about just running into them and going on, but dammit, with these vans the engine's right up front and he doesn't want to take chances on putting his ride out of commission.
He gets close to the dead, throws the van door open and jumps down with crossbow in hand. He takes them one by one, starting with the one closest to him. Shit, number three didn't quite go down, it wasn't a clean shot and just as the thing is lunging toward him, Daryl pulls his knife, stabbing the son of a bitch right between the eyes.
Before dragging them off the road he checks for weapons, he supposes that will be his new way of doing things, rifling dead bodies for their goods. It does pay off. He gets a small hunting knife and a real nice filet knife, shit, that's going to come in handy, and a small pistol.
There's something else, shit, it seems gross, but soldiers have done it since forever. One of the walkers has a brand new pair of real nice hunting boots. He probably looted them from a sporting goods store at the start of all this bullshit. No more shoes are getting made any time soon, so the smart thing for Daryl to do would be to help himself to them, and he does.
He stows his found treasures in the van and he's back on his way.
He approaches the prison slowly and cautiously. He knows of a rise where he can park the van and look down on the place. At least he'll be able to get some idea of what's going on. He pulls the binoculars out of the glove box and begins to scope the place out, just before he hears the crackle of dry twigs and realizes someone's watching him.
He drops the binoculars and takes up the crossbow. It's loaded, cocked and ready to fire, then he hears the low whistle and a whispered voice says, "Daryl, don't shoot, it's Rick Grimes. Me and my group are here."
Daryl nods and Rick and his small group come out of the trees. There's a big guy named T-Dog and a bigger one named Tyrese, his sister Sasha, and a woman called Carol. There's the pregnant woman, Lori, and a blonde woman named Andrea with her sister Amy, along with a couple of other guys, a woman named Karen and a few kids, including his pal Carl.
Everyone's packing weapons and they all look ready and willing to fight. In a whispered conversation Daryl and Rick discuss the best way to approach the prison. Rick agrees with Daryl, "Unless there are people inside the prison itself, it looks like the current population is all walkers. There are a lot of them too."
Daryl adds, "Yeah, there's a lot more of em than there are of us, but we got the advantage, we got brains and weapons."
Rick smiles and nods, "Yeah, you're right. So, are you going to join us then, become part of our group?"
Daryl smiles back, but shakes his head, "Nah, y'all seem like a great buncha fighters, but my only plan here is ta try'n find my brother, or maybe find a sign or someone who knows sumthin' about what happened ta him."
As they get closer to the prison they see why none of these walkers have wandered from the yard, all the gates are chained shut. Daryl notes, "These guys musta already been dead, and when the others left, they just locked em in."
"Yeah, it's lookin' that way."
Carl wants to help, but his Dad is adamant, "Not this time Carl, not this time. You stay with your Mom and Sophia. There will be plenty of stuff I'll need your help with once we clear the place."
The boy is angry and pouts, "I could be a big help you know." Those words hit Daryl hard, that's exactly what Beth said to him. Shit.
The group is off to the side of the yard, trying to stay out of sight of the walkers as Daryl uses the bolt cutters to clip the chain link, much like he did at the construction yard but here, he only makes an opening big enough for group members to slip in. They'll want to mend that fence once they've been able to take over. As he makes the last few cuts he mutters, "I never thought I'd be breaking into prison."
They make it in and a bloody battle ensues as Rick's group and Daryl manage to clear the prison yard of walkers. Bodies are piled at the back of the yard to be burned later, and the group begins to make their way inside the prison walls.
Daryl breaks away from the others, he has his own mission. He knows which cell block his brother was in, and that's where he's going first. On his way he passes the prison kitchen and damn near shoots a guy who bolts out in front of him. The small redheaded man has an old school handlebar mustache and he seems pretty frantic, "Did the government send you here to rescue us? It's about damn time, we've been locked in with these monsters for weeks."
Daryl snarls, "There ain't no government no more, so calm down. And just who the fuck is 'we'?"
Just then a large black man comes walking through the big stainless kitchen doors, sees Daryl's weapons and raises his hands in surrender, "Name's Oscar. I ain't no criminal man, I was just in here for a minor rap. I didn't do nuthin' ta deserve all this."
Daryl nods, "Shit, no one did anythin' ta deserve all this. Welcome ta the new world. What's your name red?"
"Axle. I'm in on a bum rap, I didn't do nuthin' wrong."
Daryl nods, "Yeah, that's the thing about prisons, ain't it? They're full of innocent men who never did anythin' wrong. I'm here lookin' for the only guilty one, my brother. He done plenty wrong. His name's Merle Dixon, either one a you know him?"
"Shit, Merle? Everyone knows him. He's the toughest sumbitch in this prison."
"Yeah, so where is he? Do ya know?"
Oscar answers, "No man, but I know he got out. I watched him, shit, Dixon was the first one through the gate."
Daryl nods, just like he knew his brother would be, "Did he ever say anythin' about where he might go if he ever got out?"
Oscar nods, "Yeah, he said he had a brother down outta Valdosta, that he was goin' that way."
Daryl almost laughs out loud. Someday he's actually going to go to Valdosta just for the hell of it. For now, he asks the prisoners, "Why didn't you two get out when ya had the chance?"
Oscar shrugs, "I was gonna, and then I run back ta get a picture I have of my wife and kids. I didn't want ta leave it behind. Everything went so fast, shit, those guys were out and the gates were locked before I could get outta here."
Daryl nods and looks to the redhead, "What about you."
Axle shrugs and admits, "I had some homemade hooch hid and I ran back after it. I figured I might need it."
Daryl snorts and Oscar explains, "There's a lotta them monsters creeping around all over the prison, we stayed in the kitchen. There's food, and that big steel door locks."
"Good idea. There's new people here now though, they plan ta clear this place and turn it into a home, like a community. You're gonna hafta talk ta the leader, Rick Grimes, maybe he'll let ya stay, cuz I can tell ya boys, there ain't nuthin' left out there ta go home to. The world's gone."
Daryl spends the night camped in the prison yard with Rick and his group, but he's up before dawn and ready to hit the road. Rick does his best to persuade him not to leave, "Why don't you just stay here with us? Or, if you're sure your brother would have made it to Valdosta, go get him and both of you come back. We're going to need more people here to make this work."
Daryl nods, "Yeah, when I find my brother I'll ask him what he thinks."
Daryl's been gone five days now, and he knows Merle made it out of prison alive. The brothers made plans long ago about how, if they were ever separated, they'd find each other. The plans were based on a few scenarios, but they never could have foreseen this situation. Daryl smiles to himself though, there is that one place that will forever bind the Dixon brothers, the mountain. Maybe Merle will turn up there. Yeah. Daryl figures the best thing is to get home, rethink this and decide what to do next.
Shit, he's beyond ready to get back to Beth, Jack and their mountain home. He's just has a couple of side trips to make first.
There are other towns along the way where he could stop, but he's waiting to get to Rosewood. The closer he is to home, the better, besides, he knows the layout there. He pulls in the parking lot slow and easy, and just like he suspected there would be, there are walkers and some of the living milling around the front entrance of big WalMart superstore. He doesn't think he's been spotted yet, and he sticks to driving near the back of the building. Just as he thought would be the case, down at the south end, where the big garden and outdoor section are, there's no one. Just a few random walkers. He pulls in as quietly as he can, and he lucks out. One of the fences has been knocked down and he can actually back into the garden section. That'll make it a lot easier loading for him, and shit, there are a couple of flatbed carts, that'll help too.
First though, before he can do anything else, he's got four hungry looking walkers trying to get in the van. He pulls the knife from it's sheath, rolls down his window and quickly stabs one in the head, without even exiting the vehicle. He finds he's smiling, shit, that was kind of cool. Things aren't so cool after that though.
He grips the loaded crossbow, throws the van door open as hard and fast as he can, knocking a couple of those bastards back and buying himself enough time to jump out, aim and hit one in the head. The fucking thing is still crumbling to the ground when he's stabbing another. The last one is ferocious, Daryl's never seen one move so fast as it comes at him. He manages to stab it's neck and although that's not a kill shot, it does slow the thing down.
Pulling his pistol and shooting it would be fastest, but he doesn't want to alert anyone he's there. He just wants to get his soil and get the fuck out of this place. As he's loading his crossbow for the kill he has to kick the bastard to buy himself a couple more seconds, he gets it done just in time and shoots the thing in the head, "Sayonara asshole." He pulls the bolt from the walker's head and helps himself to the knife the dead guy has in his boot, and Daryl's ready to get what he came for.
He opens the vans' big back doors, then rolls the flat cart over to where the stacks of potting soil are. He works fast, loading as many of the big sacks of soil as the hand cart can handle. After two trips he figures no more, the fucking van will never make it up the mountain. Just as he's about to shut the double doors and get the hell out, three things catch his eye.
There's a display of seed packets and he doesn't bother to read what's what. They'll use what they can. He also doesn't bother removing the individual packets from the wire display rack either, he simply picks the thing up and stashes it all in the van, laying it on top of the bags of potting soil. The other thing he spotted is the display of pre planted herb pots, they're good to go. The little plants could use some water, they're dry, but they look viable, and if nothing else, they can use the pots. He loads a few in a flat box and sticks them in the back of the van. Beth will love that shit. That's when he starts pulling gardening gloves off another rack. There's no nice leather gloves, but these damn things are at least something.
The whole stop took only about 30 minutes, but man, he's anxious to get out before there's trouble. He's got one more stop to make and then he's going home.
As he's driving out of the lot a walker stumbles in front of him and he clips it's legs, causing it to fall to the ground, "Outta my way asshole, I'm in a hurry ta get home."
It's not imperative that he make this stop, there's not one damn thing there they need, but he wants to. He wants to do this for Beth.
He pulls up behind Dale and Erma's house, grabs his bow, just in case, and hurries in the backdoor. It doesn't appear that anyone's been here since he and Beth were. Good.
He makes a b-line for the formal dining room and there it is, hanging right on the wall like it probably has been for 30 years. It's a fancy little wooden framed box thing, with a clear glass door that opens so you can add spoons for everyone to see and admire, Erma's spoon collection display case. Perfect. He'll grab it before he goes, but for now, he's got something else to check out.
He remembers when Erma first took him in her sewing room. He was embarrassed about learning, and he told her, "It's a woman thing, ain't it?"
She smiled at him in that way she had and said, "No son, it's a life skill. Who do you think is going to mend your clothes, your socks, even your sheets and blankets? Sewing is one more skill that will set you free." Just like with everything else, she was right.
He sees it as soon as he walks though the door, it's there on the floor next to a small overstuffed chair. He saw her working with it in the front room many times. The basket is filled with balls of yarn and two different sets of knitting needles. There's a big plastic bag next to it too, like an oversized shopping bag. It's full of skeins of all different color yarn and a little case with more needles, some other little tools and a pair of scissors. Shit, he hit the jackpot. He looks up and smiles, "Thanks Miz Erma, Beth's gonna like this a lot."
There's a large plastic tote marked "Fat Quarters," and although he's not sure what that means, he can see there's a bunch of fabric in it and he's taking it. There's a small stack of folded material too and he's taking that as well. Beth's going to be so happy, and he knows Miz Erma would be too.
He puts all the sewing and knitting stuff in the back of the van and shuts the doors, sets the spoon display on the passenger seat, and just as he's shutting the door he hears the click of a gun being cocked and a voice says, "Hey man, whatcha got there?"
Fuck.
He turns to see the rangy looking outlaw who has a big old colt pointed at him, and he answers half-honestly, "Got some potting soil and some sewing stuff. Gonna take it to my folks down in Valdosta."
The guy smiles and says, "Bullshit. Gimme your gun and that knife, then I'll have a look-see for myself. I'm claiming it all."
"Fine, you got it." Daryl takes the pistol out of the holster and hands it to the guy, grip-end first.
The guy's all smiles as he nods, "That's right, now the knife."
"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Daryl begins to pull his knife from it's sheath, but rather than hand it to the waiting outlaw, he quickly throws it and his aim is true, it sticks the guy right in the heart. Death isn't instant though, as the guy is dying he manages to shoot off a round, missing Daryl but hitting the front end of the van. Fuck.
Daryl goes to the guy, now gone and probably ready to turn any minute, stabs the son of a bitch in the head, grabs both his own gun and the outlaws' gun, plus both knives. The other thing he decides to take is the guy's black leather jacket. As he rolls the dead man over to pull the jacket off, he sees the name on the back of the guys' belt, "Len" and mutters, "Thanks Fucker." He hops in the van and before he can get out of the driveway he sees a small group of walkers headed toward the fresh kill for a snack. It must have been the gunshot that drew them in.
The van's still runs but it's not running right and Daryl knows he'll never make it all the way up the mountain. Shit, well, he's walked the mountain before. He'll go as far as the van will take him, then hike the rest of the way. It'll be fine. He just needs to get home, get the pickup and go back to get the stuff he has in the van. Then he'll tow the fucking van down to the trailhead before someone discovers it and decides to climb the mountain to find out where the van was going.
Sure enough, he manages to get almost hallway up the mountain when the van just won't go another inch. He pops the hood and checks the engine, but although he can repair just about anything with a motor, he's never had to fix a bullet wound to an engine. The van is dead and gone.
Shit, and he feels it in the air. It's going to snow tonight. Fuck this. He can't think about that too much though, he's got to decide what to take with him on the climb, and what to leave behind. He grabbed a real nice backpack off the floor at the big box store. Someone must have decided they didn't need it and tossed it aside. It's one of those kind that has everything for one person to go out camping for a couple a days, even a chair. He'd better take it in case he can't make it and has to shelter for the night. He has two granola bars left and the ramen. He'll feel okay about building a small fire further up the mountain. He leaves the crossbow in the van, it's too heavy with everything else he's got. He opts to take the shotgun, pistol and his knife, and he begins the long climb.
00
Beth's been around Daryl long enough to think she needs to verify this man is who he says he is. She keeps the gun pointed at him when she asks, "It's easy to say that's who you are, but how do I know it's true?"
To her surprise his smile widens and he chuckles at her question, "Damn Sugar, I see little brother taught ya well." He nods and answers, "Let's see here, how can I make ya believe me. Well, he's got two crazy lookin' flyin' dragon things tattooed on his right shoulder blade. They add a nice contrast to all the scarring. On the inside of his right arm he's got some other flyin' dragon bullshit. He's got a star on his hand, and there's sumthin' on his leg, I forgot what it is, a snake maybe. He could have more by now, but that's all I know about."
Beth realizes then, she hasn't seen Daryl's legs. Hmm
"This here piece a property belonged to our granddaddy, then our no-account Dad. He's the one that give me and little brother all our lovely scars. This here place, it was a moonshine operation before, and damn, if ya ever decide ta believe me, I sure could use a long swallow offa one a them jars."
She's nearly convinced but asks him one final question, "Did he ever mention his dog?"
"Oh hell yeah, he loves that boy, Jack." Jack's ear perk up and Merle Dixon laughs, "That's him, ain't it? Hey there Jack, I'm your Uncle Merle." Then he looks at her and asks, "And what's your name Sugar?"
"I'm Beth."
"I never knew little brother ta keep a woman around. You n him, are ya married?"
"No, not exactly."
"I see. Say, would ya mind pointin' that gun somewhere besides at me, and lemme go get myself a jar a that shine. It's gettin' damn cold out here, I'm bettin' we get a snow tonight."
She lowers the gun and says, "I think you're right, it does feel like snow. C'mon in the house, we keep a couple of jars in there and Jack and I were about to go in and have some stew. You're welcome to join us."
"Sounds good. Venison stew I presume."
"Yes."
"Little Brother always has been a hunter."
She carries the shotgun and he reaches for the cast iron pot of bubbling stew, and as he enters the cabin and sets the pot on the back of the woodstove, he compliments, "Damn, Daryl did a real fine job here. Real nice, and what about you Sugar, you like livin' way the hell up here?"
"I do like it, and we have lots of great plans too."
He laughs, "Shit, imagine that, Little Brother makin' future plans with an honest ta God female. You're a pretty one too."
She feels her face pink up, how embarrassing. She points and says, "There are a couple of jars of the moonshine in that upper cabinet. Please, help yourself."
"Thank ya Ma'am."
"Beth. Please."
"You bet Beth."
"I'll get us cups."
"Yeah? You gonna have some too?"
"Maybe just a little."
"Alright then, lemme get us fixed up."
While he's filling the cups Beth gets the bread from the tin and sets some in the center of the table, then gets down two bowls and gets spoons from the drawer. "It's not fancy but it's filling, and I'm sorry, we don't have butter for the bread, but we do have this jam."
"Shit, I can't believe ya have bread. How'd ya come by that?"
"Sit, I'll tell you all about it."
He eats hungrily and she wonders how long it's been since he had a meal. She waits until he slows down a bit, then tells him the story of her, Daryl and Jack's trip to town.
He nods, "Damn, you two thought of everythin', didn't ya?"
"Well, we could still use a few things, and when Daryl's done searching for you, he's going to try and get that stuff."
"I saw his truck here, what's he drivin'?"
"The van we got at the construction yard."
"Ah."
"Oh gosh, look out the window, it's started snowing."
"Hell yeah it has, I got here just in time."
She's worried now, "I hope Daryl gets home before it gets too bad."
Merle assures her, "Don't you worry too much about little brother, he always figures out a way."
That makes her smile, "He does, doesn't he?"
They finish their stew and Jack finishes his dinner, but Beth doesn't jump up to do the dishes like Daryl always does. Instead she and Merle sip at their moonshine and he tells her about the guards letting everyone out of the prison, including themselves, "It was pretty much total chaos anyway at that point. There was a lotta men that had already turned, and they was killin' n eatin' their cellmates and whatnot, the food deliveries had stopped and shit, everyone wanted outta that place."
"It must have been so scary, I'm sorry you had to go through that."
He smiles, "Damn, you're about the sweetest thing ever. I can see why little brother fell in love with ya."
She's embarrassed again, "Well I'm not sure he's in love."
He laughs out loud then, "Ya ain't? Well I sure as hell am. The boy's got a woman in his house for more than an hour, he's trustin' her with his dog, and he's makin' plans ta plant taters n beans with her. That's love sister."
She giggles right along with him.
Daryl's been walkin' for almost four hours. It's dark as pitch out and snowflakes are beginning to fall. If he was smart he'd make camp, build a fire and shelter for the night. He doesn't want to stop though, shit, he just wants to get home to her.
He trudges along, cold, hungry, and tired, but finally, the cabin is in sight.
As he gets closer he sees it, shit no, it's that fucking hippy van. Those assholes are here with Beth! Fuck.
He drops the backpack, cocks the rifle and silently creeps toward the cabin. There are remnants of an outdoor fire, there's smoke coming out of the cabin's chimney, and light is streaming from the windows.
Surprise always works best in these situations, and that's what he aims to do, catch them completely by surprise. There are two of those shitheads and he's going to see to it they both go down, and fast. bam, bam assholes. Those fuckers better not have done anything to Beth. Shit.
He throws the front door open yelling, "On your feet assholes!"
Beth's startled, her eyes are wide with fear and she's frozen in place, but Merle jumps to his feet with a great big smile on his face, and says, "Damn Little Brother, ya scared the shit outta me."
00
A/N The Brothers are together again. Now what? Please leave a comment. The chapter photo is on my tumblr blogs gneebee and bethylmethbrick, please have a look. I'll see you next week with more of The Man on The Mountain. Until then remember, I love ya large! xo gneebee
