Interment (working title)

"Interment" is a Walking Dead Fan Fiction placed where the season 4 finale "A" ends. The character of The Walking Dead are the property of Robert Kirkman and AMC. No profit will be made from this fan fiction.

Status: incomplete

Interment

 Chapter one

            The air was thick in that boxcar. The confines and the tightness of the area was only part of reason for this trapped feeling Daryl was sure they all felt. He settled himself, back against a wall. His body welcoming the support as he waited. For what though he had no idea.

           Days have passed since the prison fell. Daryl was relieved to see Rick, Michonne and Carl had survived. And, here in this prison of a boxcar were others, Glenn and Maggie, Sasha and Bob. It was such a relief to him to see them. They survive it. It was so good to see them. So good to be together with them.
          Why is it then did Daryl Dixon wish he was dead?

            “They’re fuckin’ with the wrong people.”    Rick’s statement just hung there. Suspended by the thickness of the air in that boxcar. The silence that followed only increased its tension.  The last time they been together as a group was the prison. Before that bastard tore through those walls; before that fucking animal killed Hershel.

           Daryl looked at Maggie, but quickly he looked away. He couldn’t bear to look at her. ‘How does he tell he lost Beth?’  And Michonne? She wanted to hunt the sick fuck down instead of supporting; helping her, he stopped her. She was right.  That shit that went down on them. That was on him.
           All of it.
          Daryl looked at other in the group. Glenn’s group had others. Two women and two men. One of the women looked familiar to them. Glenn referred to them as friends. Daryl hoped they would be able to count on them. He surveyed the group again. Disgusted, he pushed himself away from the wall and moved to the back of the boxcar. He didn’t want the others to see him.  See him lose control. Ass kicker wasn’t with them.
          Daryl tried to draw in breath but couldn’t.  The amount of rage pent up inside him prevented him from doing so. He pounded the butt of his fist into the wall of the boxcar. A thundering sound reverberated throughout the car. Everyone turned to him. He coiled back his arm for another blow, squaring his knuckled fist to the confining wall. The blow was thwarted as a set of arms clutched onto his. Daryl followed through causing Michonne’s to be swung against the wall. This sent the two of them to fall to the floor. 
        “Whoa! Calm down everyone! Let’s just calm down and try to get a handle on this.”   Rick tried to put the group at ease. Saying something about needed to stay focus or something to that effect.  Daryl drew in a wavering breath now. It was such a struggle for him.
         “I’m sorry” he said quietly to Michonne. Rick began to pace and spoke to the rest of the group.  Oblivious to others, Daryl was lost in his inner hell.
        “Hey, it’s okay.” Michonne replied.  “Just hang…”
        “Sorry about it all. What happened at the prison?”  In the darkness of the boxcar. Michonne couldn’t see his tears. “You were right.”
        Michonne didn’t say anything. Her hand rested on his arm as they sat side by side.
He continued quietly, softly.  Michonne was stunned. She sat there and listened.
       “I stopped you. You want to look for him but I stopped you.”  Daryl’s voice crack as he spoke. If I hadn’t that bastard wouldn’t have taken you and ..”  Daryl stopped. Michonne could tell now he was crying.
       Michonne put her arm around Daryl and pulled him close. He resisted. She moved in closer. Whispering in his ear she “shh-ed” him. She held him now, calmly stroking his hair. He apologized over and over.          
       Michonne’s heart ached for her dear friend.  She had never seen Daryl like this. It had been days since the fall of the prison and he was carrying all this. She knew now it wasn’t the place or time for blame but she did think back at all that had happen and Daryl was holding himself responsible for all of it.

The Waking Sleep

The content of this story is purely speculation by me, Monica Calo aka Marcy Thorne the writer of this fan fiction. Content: Strong Adult language. Violence. The characters and premise of The Walking Dead belong to Robert Kirkman and AMC (and others). No profit will be made from the story.

The Waking Sleep

     He thought he was dying.  It was an odd feeling.  Daryl could feel the coldness in his limbs. His breath caught in lungs. He felt as if he was clutching on to something but couldn’t determine if it was real or imaginary. Alive or spiritual. Something inside of him was telling him to hold on yet part of him wanted to let go, to die. To go beyond this sick world and find some sort of peace. Something else though was keeping him here.

     He didn’t want to open his eyes. The secluded darkness shielded him from sight of what should have been an abandoned shack. It was littered with debris, dead animal carcasses, and now, rotting corpses. The stench could not be avoided but the horrible vision could be kept at bay a while longer.  In the darkness he turned his head toward the window. He was about a foot away from it and the broken pane allowed some fresh air to mask the scent of decaying flesh. He was tired, so damn tired. ‘Just go …I’m done here’

     Light, as bright as the sun, fell on him.  Trying to see it source, he squinted. Where he was or what was beyond it? It was a large window…a window with bars. The tombs. Carol called it home. He thought it strange she would call that place home but now he wished he could go back.  Turn back time before the attack, before the sickness. He failed them. Michonne was right to go after him. He should never have talked her out of going to Macon. He should have helped her find the bastard.

 He could see their faces. They were happy. Peaceful. Such moments were rare for them.  He felt warm inside now. His heart swell at the sight of his friends. Rick stood by Hershel in the fields. Carl was talking Michonne. He could see Glenn and Maggie, Carol with the kids and Beth with lil ass-kicker.

Beth…

    Beth! He saw her. She saw him. His chest felt tight.  She stood, leaving Judith on the ground to play. He moved toward her but the closer he tried to get the further away she was, slipping into the dark recesses of the tombs. Her appearance was changing before his eyes. She grew thinner, disheveled, and hungry. Her smiling face had become a mix of anger and sadness. The tightness in his chest felt like vise squeezing the air and blood from him. He screamed out to the others, searched them for help but they were gone. The field was now strewn with dead bodies. He turned to Beth. She was so far away laying on the ground. Agony in her eyes and tears on her soiled face.  She was reaching up to him…pleading for his help.

     The light fades. Its brightness succumbs to the darkness. Cold and empty. Sick and alone…Beth was gone. They all were gone. He shivered. His shivers turn to a constant shaking. All his life he had felt alone but then, it was bearable. It was because it was normal; it was what he was used to. This. This was different. This was a vast emptiness and emptiness is nothing. How could nothing feel so painful?

    He knew why it hurt. Just like his hair and skin and his body and soul, they were a part of him. They were gone now and he was here, left to walk amongst the walking dead, the marauders, the pillagers, the psychos and maniacs, the desperate and the lost. The Cannibals!

      Daryl bolted upright.  Bile filled his mouth. He turned to his side and began to retch, expelling the vileness that was within him. At some point in the night the clouds had cleared. The room was bathed in dim pale light of the moon. The dead bodies of the hunters laid where they had fallen.  He killed them, killed all of them. He felt no remorse.

     He saw the trunk too.  It was real. All of it. The dead hunters, the rotting flesh of walkers, the bare bones of animals and walkers, the stench in the air and the vile taste in his mouth. It was all real.  Bones of walkers? Before he assumed that was what they were.  Some may have been but he knew now in that corner laid the bones of the living.

He had to leave.

He promised her he would. He promised Beth he would leave this place.

     He struggled to stand. He found his bow and walked over to the dead bodies of the hunters. He extracted the bolts he had left from their bodies. He found his knife. It laid beside the trunk, where he last used it. In the moonlight he could see it, but he felt it as if it was plunging deep into  his heart.  He picked it off and carefully wiped the blood from it blade. His left hand rested on the trunk. He gently stroked it the smooth wooden top. Moments later and lost in thoughts of her, he knelt beside it and blanketed it with his torso, his knife still in his hand. He stared its steely edge. It would be so easy to end all of this now, but he made a promise to her.

        He stood. He grabbed the side handle of the trunk and dragged it outside. The land surrounding the shack was littered with debris, wooden boards and soiled household items.  He search the ground for the broken shovel he saw earlier. In his quest he turned over soiled items of other people lives. He didn’t find it strange that he thought about Lori now and the time they spent on the highway.  “This is a graveyard” . The cars and trucks stuffed  the valuable things of those who died. Daryl found what he was looking for and head back to the trunk.  He stopped and looked around again. “This is a graveyard”

Not here. Not this place. Not with them.

       The morning sun crested the ridge and it’s ray washed down on the valley below.  The air was still chilled but the site before him was beautiful. He sat under a canopy of a massive tree.  He legs were propped up and on them was a board.  He took his knife and chipped more at the piece of wood. Satisfied, he set the board aside and looked at the view before him. 

      It was beautiful.  It was a clearing he and Beth rested at several days ago. Days ago that felt like ages. To him it was an advantage point.  The backside of the hilltop in which he now sat was steep, and thick with brush, making it difficult for walkers to climb. It also kept the scent of their living flesh away from the walkers.  Before him was a meadow which tapered off into valley. The open field provide a clear view of any threats.  The warmer days hinted spring was approaching. In Georgia, winters bring about a mild dormant stage, not the full fledge de-foliage of the north but more of stalled or a momentary stillness of life. Now, it was it evident, the vibrancy of new life was approaching.

    Daryl looked to his left, to the mound of freshly turned soil. It was a beyond the canopy of branches of a large oak. It was here he laid Beth to rest. She never said it but he could tell she loved this place. He saw the practical side of this hilltop. She saw it for its beauty and it peacefulness.   

     Daryl stood.  He gathered up the wood he had with him. They were pieces he had found laying out the shack.  He fashioned two pieces into a, cross using twine he had in his pack. The other board was flat, most likely from a busted up crate. With the stock end of his crossbow he drove the cross in to the ground, then he secured the wood board to the cross.  He stood and took a step back, surveying the site.

It was done. She is at peace now.

Beth Greene

Beloved Daughter

Sweet Sister

Dear Friend

        Her passing sadden him. Hell, it was ripping him apart. But this… this was right. He couldn’t bury her at that shack. It was a place of hell and carnage. She deserved better. Hershel and Maggie would have wanted this for her. Yes…this was right.

       Daryl wasn’t trying to right a wrong. He knew no amount of rights can undo the wrongs he has done.  He was responsible for this grave and the graves of the others. He failed them and it is this world he deserves. He didn’t know if there was a heaven or hell. He did hope though, for Beth sake. Hoped she had found peace and that peace is beside her father and amongst the others.

       He had to go now. He made a promise to her, a promise to carry on.  Other must have survived. You need to find them, Daryl. She said that. Even as she laid there bleeding to death, she had hope. He would carry on. He will continue to walk on this plane. This place where the dead walk amongst the living and feed off the lives others. This place where the sickest of mankind resides, feeding off the lives of others. Defiling what is sacred and pure. Precious and kind. Daryl will walk this plane between heaven and hell. The real and the unreal. Which is not a dream but a nightmare.

      He will carry on for a promise. Amongst the walking dead. In his waking sleep.

Trail of Tears

Trail of Tears

 Placement: Post “Made to Suffer” 3X08 Warnings: This fan fiction contain SPOILERS of episodes following “Made to Suffer” that were obtained from various websites. The content of this story is purely speculation by me, Monica Calo aka Marcy Thorne the  writer of this fan fiction. Content: Strong Adult language. Violence. Suicide.

Prologue 

     Daryl Dixon sat perfectly still. Any movement caused the old chair to creak from the shifting of his weight. He fared well adapting in this shit hole of a world; the environment which they now lived in, one wrought with desperation, lack of food and sleep-where-can surroundings. His legs were lean and well-tone; his upper body was more muscular with broad shoulders and well cut arms. Daryl Dixon was not large man, but he was an imposing one. He has the body of hunter and the senses to match: agile for swift, stealthy movements and strong for the hunt and the fight.

     He had lost this fight.

     Daryl thought of the others and hoped they had made it out of town, but only briefly. He needed to focus what was happening here. He thought he saw Merle on the wall. The strobe from the flash bangs and smoke from the grenades was dense. The barrage of gunfire more pressing. Waiting for it to clear, he had taken a hard blow to the side of his head. When he came to, he was bound to the chair. His head throbbed as he surveyed the three men before him.

     “Where is...where’s Merle?”

     His vision blurred as he tried focus on them. Blood. He tasted blood. A man of Hispanic descent approached. Daryl saw his sheathed knife in his hand. He circled behind Daryl and unsheathed the blade. He grabbed Daryl’s hair and yanked his head back, holding the knife to Daryl’s throat.

     “Who’s this Merle?”

     “My brother, you sum o’ bitch!"

     Using his legs, Daryl, with all his might, pushed his back into the old chair, snapping it free. Daryl’s body pinned the man the wall behind. The man dropped the knife and fell to the ground. Daryl landed opposite of him. He swung his leg around and kicked the fallen man in the face. Seconds later the other two men were on top of him, pummeling him with their fists. The Hispanic man struggled to his feet and kicked Daryl in the gut. Two other men ran into to the room, joining the others in restraining Daryl. Even with his hands tied, Daryl fought. He spun around, kicking himself free from their grip and managed to head butt one of thugs.

      “Motherfucker! Hold him down”

      Minutes later, Daryl was strapped to another chair, a metal one this time, and shrouded in a hood. From what could tell, he was alone. His hands tied and bound behind him; legs strapped to the legs of the chair. He had to rely on his other senses as he did many times before. As a kid, he would leave his parents’ house and head out to the woods beyond the tracks. It was his sanctuary. Away from the yelling, insults and the abuse his dad inflicted on his mom. He would lie in a lean-to he  fashioned and listen to the world around him. In the quiet haven of the forest, he heard the crickets and the flapping sounds of a bat’s wing as it cut through the night sky. He could distinguish the difference between a raccoon and ‘possums-the night scavengers, by the sounds they make as move through the underbrush.

     Listening now, he heard the men in the distance just outside the room. Three distinct voices; their words cursed and muffled. He heard the footsteps of one of the men fading off, then a brief exchange between the two who remained behind. He inhaled through his nose hoping to find some clues to his surroundings. It was a different room. All he could detect was the musty cloth that covered his head and stale beer. Moments later a heavy door flung open. The two men entered and firmly grabbed a hold of his arms. More men entered the room. Three, maybe four more. They cut the bindings, freeing his legs from the chair. They hoisted him to his feet. He didn’t fight them. He needed to keep it together, to stay alert, ready and able if an opportunity presented itself. Shrouded and bound, they led Daryl Dixon to the Woodbury Arena.

 

Chapter One 

 

     “I’m afraid terrorists will want what we have. Want to destroy us!”

     The ground beneath Daryl changed from a hard surface to organic terrain as they forcefully guided him. He could smell wood smoke and heard some guy speechifying about terrorists. They shoved him through a crowd, arms and fists lashing out at him. Moments later, they left him standing there. Again, he tried to gauge what was happening around him.

     “This is one of the terrorists!”  A hand reached out and grabbed his arm. The man pulled him close and removed the hood from his head.

     “Merle’s own brother!”

     The crowd let out a gasp. Daryl’s senses came together. Standing just a few steps away was Merle.  His face was like stone, void of any emotion or concern. Daryl took a step back landing against the man with a patched eye.

   “What shall we do with ‘em?” He shouted

   “KILL THEM! KILL THEM!” The crowd chanted repeatedly.

    Daryl spun around. He was in a center of an arena ringed with people standing on bleachers. The large yard was lit by high torches; armed guards blocked any way out of the walled stadium. He didn’t see the others. No Rick. No Glenn or Maggie. Did they get away? Were they safe? Or were being held somewhere in the distance? As Daryl surveyed the arena once more, he saw it-his crossbow. The black guard had it pointed at them. The one–eyed man moved closer to Merle.

     “You wanted your brother,” He circled around Daryl and pushed him toward Merle. “Now you got him.”

     The two brothers stood there, face to face. Merle’s stone cold gaze turned to a hopeless, apologetic plea. Though not spoken, Daryl could hear Merle’s voice.

     “Sorry, lil brother”

     An uneasy feeling came over Daryl. Maggie said Merle was some sort of lieutenant to this Governor. If so, Merle knew what they faced, just how bad the odds were stacked against them. 

   “KILL THEM! KILL THEM!” The crowd continued with their chanting. “KILL THEM!”

   ‘LET HIM GO!

    One voice in the crowd. A familiar voice. A sympathetic woman’s voice. The thundering ‘kill chant’ bounced off the walls in the arena but he heard it. Turning from Merle, he searched the crowd.

   “Let him go, Phillip, Let him go! He’s a friend!”

    It was Andrea! What the hell? She tried to get to the one-eyed man, but two guards stopped her.

    “Phillip, he’s a friend!” She pleaded as she tried to free herself.

    “It’s not up to me anymore.” the one-eyed man turned from her. “The people have spoken.

    “W-what?" Andrea stammered. She turned to Daryl, her tearful eyes meeting his. “He’s a friend,” she said once more

 

 *********************

 

    “Stop it! Let me go! Phillip don’t do this,” Andrea screamed trying to get her voice above the crowds.    “You’re wrong!”
     The man motioned to a guard and whispered into his ear. The guard nodded and went to Andrea. Taking her by the arm he, with the other two guards, led Andrea away. Andrea fought and screamed. The crowd stopped chanting, watching scene unfold before them. Amazingly, she broke free and ran to the arena. Other guards ran to her, grabbed her by the arms and spun her around. Andrea’s body hit a large torch and it fell into the crowd. Smoke and flaring embers quickly filled one quarter of the arena. The crowd scattered, screaming. Andrea also screaming as the guards hauled her off. A hand latched onto Daryl’s arm. Daryl tried to pull away, but turned and saw Merle.

     “Come on, Little Brother.” Merle led him to one side of the arena. After he elbowed a distracted guard knocking him to the ground, Merle stooped to grab his weapon. He swung the gun over his shoulder and retrieved a knife from his boot. He pulled Daryl behind the bleachers. "Just like ol’ times, huh?” Merle said as he freed Daryl’s hands.  Merle tossed the gun to Daryl.

     “Merle."

      “I’m a better shot than you,” He raised his right arm. He fastened the knife to the binding of his stump guard. “but, as ya can see, thing have changed.”

      “I know Merle…we went back for you.” Daryl checked the rifle’s magazine “Rick. T-Dog…”

       Merle chuckled. Daryl watched him. It never occurred to him until now how much his older brother resembled the bastard of a dad they had.  “…and Glenn.”

       Merle turned to Daryl cold, disgusted gaze. Merle’s snarky grin gone.

     “What went down up there, Merle. It was wrong, but they went back for ya.”                      

      Merle lowered his head, nodding. “So I heard”                                          

     “FIND THEM!”

       Daryl turned back to the chaos in the arena. Merle took hold of Daryl’s arm. ‘Come on little brother. We need to get out here.’ Daryl pulled away.

       “I’m not leaving, not now.”

        “You goin’ after Blondie? Its suicide, Bro’ ’sides she’s right where she wants to be.” Merle attempted to grab Daryl’s arm. Again, Daryl pulled away. He pushed Merle into the back of the bleachers.

        “Did they get out okay?”

        “Whoa!”

         “Do you know?”

        “Y-yeah, as far as I know.” Merle put his hands up, surrendering.

         Daryl turned to the arena. Most of the crowd left, but Daryl aimed for another torch. He let off a shot. It hit its mark and the torch to crash down near the one-eyed man. Several of the guards surrounded him yet again. They lead him to a doorway and out of Daryl’s view. The other guards ran toward to gunfire, towards Daryl. Daryl fired a barrage of bullets, not aiming at anything in particular. Two guards went down, including the one with his crossbow. The guards scattered, choosing to save their own asses.

        “Damn lil’ bro. Look at you”

      “Come on!’ he grabbed Merle’s shirt and ran across the arena. Daryl yanked the bow from the dead man’s grip. Merle grabbed the gun from the other fallen guard and followed, staying close to his brother. Daryl tried to get to the exit where he last seen Andrea. It was pointless- too heavily guarded. He turned and headed for another corridor. Gunfire came from behind. In the commotion, Daryl didn’t hear Merle warnings.      

       “Biters!”

       They entered the darkened corridor that housed the pens of walkers. Arms of decaying flesh reached out from iron barred cages. The walkers growled and groaned. The cages rattled as the walkers tried to reach the fleeing brothers. More gunfire came from behind. Merle cried out, causing to Daryl to pause and turn.

      “MERLE! Are ya okay? Are ya hit?”

     “I-I’m fine. Keep going…” Merle closed ranks behind his brother. “…through that door, make a right.’

     At the door, Daryl shouldered the gun and armed his bow then proceeded through the door with caution.

******************************

      “You are to stay here. We’ll be out here if you need anything.”

       The guards gave Andrea a shove, pushing her into the Governor’s quarters. She spun around to face them. There were three of them…three armed guards keeping watch over her. One of them had her gun in his waistband. They slammed the door in her face.

     Andrea paced, wondering what to do and what was happening. Why was Daryl there? Did he know Merle was there? And Michonne? Michonne came back. Did she bring Daryl here? Andrea paced back and forth. She heard the cries from the street and ran to the window. In a state of panic, the residents spilled out into the streets. Parents were dragging screaming kids, running to their homes. Near the arena warehouse, she saw Daryl and Merle. Following their movements, she watched as they entered the back of building.

    Pulling back, she frantically scanned the room wondering what to do next. Muttering a small prayer, she began rifling through cabinets and the desk of the office looking for another gun. She knocked a pile of things off the desk and paused hoping the guards didn’t hear. As she picked up the items, she spotted it. Tucked up against the wall near the desk was Rick’s bag of guns. She grabbed it and pulled out a rifle. With those goons outside, she wouldn’t make it through the door. Replacing the rifle she grabbed a handgun. Then, swinging the entire bag of guns over her shoulder, she ran to the window. She had to get to Daryl.

                                   

    Chapter Two

 

      “We’ll be fine here for a bit. It’s almost daylight. Watch the front. Le’ me tend to this and we’ll lit on outta here”   Merle stayed at the back entrance of a store. Daryl stayed low and moved to the front. He heard Merle in the back ripping some fabric into pieces. Daryl watch as residents of Woodbury filled the street. In the darkness Merle laughed.

      “This reminds me of when everything first went to shit. “'member that, lil bro? We raided Grady’s tack shop. Ol’ Jack Pickers…” Merle winced in pain and let out a wavering breath.  “Damn dumb ass deputy didn’t know what hit’im. The Dixon Brothers got ‘im good, though” Merle laughed and stops. ‘Grady’s shop was ripe for the pickin’ and all ya get is a damn huntin' knife. You don’t think I saw but I did. I saw what you did. Ya did right by him.”

      Daryl couldn’t see his brother but could hear the rustling from the back of the store where he tended to his wound. The street was filling up with people. Guards ran from the arena to the wall. They turned the searchlight from the road and woods to interior streets of the town, shining it on the residents and the buildings. Daryl saw Andrea passing from building to building hiding from the beam of the light. She was heading right to where Daryl and Merle were hiding.

    “Bro, how ya doin?” Daryl ducked from the beam of light that shined into the building. He crawled over the door to look for Andrea.        

     “Daryl?”

      It was Andrea. Daryl looked out the window and saw Andrea crouched down and out of view from the searching lights.

     “Don’t do it, bro…she's spreadin’ ‘er legs for that sumo'bitch”

      Daryl ignored his brother and opened the door for her. She crawled in and stayed low. She struggled to catch her breath.

    “You.. You need to get out of here.” She looked around in the darkness “Where’s Merle?”

     “He’s coverin’ the back.”

      Merle cocked his gun “I’m here…an’ watchin’ you.”

     “Merle..enough!” Daryl shushed him.

     “Do… you have a way out?"

      Daryl nodded, “Yeah... I know a way.

      Andrea nodded finally catching her breath.

      “I should have known you’d make it off the farm. The others... did they...?”
      "For the most part, Patricia and Jimmy didn’t make it. Neither did Shane. And um...” Daryl paused “eh... Lori and T-dog did but…” Daryl sighed in the darkness. Andrea let out a gasp, her hand clutched at her mouth, stifling her cries.
      Merle listened as the two spoke. After Daryl filled her in on the others, a silence fell between them. So much has happened since he was left on that roof. Merle sat there a moment realizing his brother had gone through his own kind of hell. Daryl survived all of it, done well even without him. Merle looked at the knife on his stump guard.

     “It’ll be daylight soon, we need to get out of here. “ Daryl called back to his brother. Merle?”

     “Yeah. I’m here, lil bro.” Merle responded softly. “I’m here.”
      Andrea touched Daryl’s arm. “I’m not going”
     “What?"
     “I’m staying.” She took a deep breath and continued. “I need to stay here right now. It’s best t I stay.” She handed Daryl the bag of guns “You’ll need these. The Governor has a lot of fire power.”
      Daryl sat there, shocked.
     “I told you lil brother.”
      In the growing light, Andrea took Daryl’s face in her hand and kissed his cheek. He felt her tears on his face “Be careful, Daryl. Stay safe.” She whispered. A moment later, she was gone.
     “Told you lil’ brother.” Merle repeated. His voice was low, strained  
     “Bro…” Daryl moved to the window to see if it was clear to leave town. Sun up was near. “…we have to move.”
      “Not just yet, Daryl... but soon, we’ll move on soon” Merle winced. “It’s ain’t safe to travel these woods at night.”  Daryl attempted to move closer to his brother but Merle stopped him and told to keep a lookout.
      “I’ll be done here soon.”  Merle said quietly. Daryl heard Merle ripping through more fabric “Ya know…all those years. I kicked your ass bro. Did my best to do right by ya. I know I was son of a bitch but I...I did it to make ya… make ya hard ass. toughen ya up…”  Merle’s spoke quietly.  “We lived a shitty life me and you. I know I wasn’t always there for you... gettin' caught up in my bullshit and all. But you did alright.” Merle let out a weak sigh. His voice trailing off. “You did alright. Like you did at Grady’s...you settled it with him”

    “Seriously, Merle we can go down memory lane later .We gotta move!”

     “You ain’t like me Daryl, be proud of that...I am …I’m proud you’re not like the son of a bitch our ol’ man and me were.”

     As Daryl gathered up his bow and the weapons bag, Merle continued.

   “This world…way it is now… it will sort its way out. Some have the balls… to survive this shit. Not me..I don’t… but you do.” 

     A sick feeling came over Daryl.
    “Move on lil’ brother….watch your back”
     Daryl heard it from he was. A blade plunging deep into flesh, like the unmistakable sound of a hunter’s knife ending the last fight of a fallen deer.
   “Merle!” Daryl crawled across the floor to his brother’s look out. Merle laid there. The room was filling with the gray cast of early morning light. Daryl saw his brother. The arm that held the blade was up to his neck, buried in the flesh and up to his skull. Beside him, a dark pool of blood.
    “MERLE!” Daryl clutched at his brother’s shirt and pulled him close “SON OF A BITCH!”
    Then Daryl saw it.
    Merle’s shirt fell away revealing the bite mark on his shoulder. He slowly set his brother down and pulled away. Daryl sat against the wall. Stunned and shocked. Angry. Damn angry. Lower jaw quivering, he tried to remember what his brother h said. He thought it was odd when Merle brought up shit from the past.

    “Move on Lil Bro”.

     Daryl fought the tears as they welled up in his eyes. He clenched his jaw tight and kicked at his brother lifeless body.
     “YOU SON OF A BITCH!” He kicked again and again.
     “DAMN BASTARD!” Filled with rage, Daryl grabbed his brother again. “WHY...WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THIS SHIT TO ME?”
      The sound of the voices outside the storefront made Daryl realize where he was. Taking cover by the back entrance, hyper aware now, he dropped his bow and the bag of guns.
     “Sonofabitch” he cursed again.
     The men outside shone flashlights into the store from outside. They checked the door. Satisfied it was locked, they moved on. Daryl quickly grabbed the weapons.
      “...it time for ya to move on, lil bro.”          

                                   **********************************************

       Andrea returned the way she came, hoping the guards didn’t check on her while she was gone. When she returned to the Governor’s quarters, she wanted to find a place the guards would have not looked for her if they came in.

       It was important for her to stay there at Woodbury. Despite his twisted ways the man ran the place, there was something here, something she longed for. Dale often talked about holding on to our humanity. Here she saw some sort of semblance to normal life. Kids went to school, people laughed, visited and socialized with each other. Philip was on a power trip, but she wanted to talk to him. To reason with him and maybe even help him to see his way was wrong.
      She had to try. If Dale meant anything to her she had to try. She took refuge behind a folded screen, wrapping a blanket around her and huddled in the corner. It was a crazy tactic, playing the sympathy card. However, she couldn’t think of any other way to explain why they hadn’t seen her if the guards came in while she was gone. She hoped Daryl and yes, even Merle got out okay and soon they would be with the Rick and the others. Shane, Lori and T-dog were gone. Tears welled up in her eyes. Dale, Sophia, Jim, Amy.
      My God!
     She had been out there with Michonne and knew the hell they went through. The walkers were moving away from the cities into the countryside. Andrea knew one walker is just as dangerous as a herd. Michonne. She must have brought Daryl there. She must be with them. But why were they here? Michonne destroyed Phillip’s room and put down his little girl. Of course, Michonne could have told Daryl about Merle, but how did she know Daryl?
      Thinking about everything that happened tonight only raised more questions. Andrea wished she had more time to talk to him. He seemed different, more restrained. Did he not trust her?
      Andrea heard the guards at the door talking to someone. Moments later she recognized Philip’s voice. She rethought her plan. It was crazy, but she knew men like Philip. Woodbury could be the sanctuary they longed for. The safe haven they need. Woodbury was more than that. It was a community and she had to talk to Philip. She had to fight for this.

 

 

     In the early morning light, Daryl moved through the woods. He was some distance away from Woodbury now. Staying off the main path, he took the same route out they had taken in, following the tracks where Michonne led them to unfortified entrance. Soon, he was close to where they parked the car.

     It was a cool morning but his quick pace kept him warm. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath and to take in the woods that surround him. Lightening his load, he set down the bag of guns. He listened, watching the brush for unusual movement other than the sway from the gentle breeze he felt. Walkers could be anywhere. One thing he discovered about walkers is their lack of the ability to move quietly, especially in thick underbrush. Right now, it appeared to be safe.
      He looked down at his hand. Clutched in his white knuckled fist was Merle’s hunting knife. The knife Merle used to kill himself, blood still coating the blade. All this time he wasn’t aware he was holding it and couldn’t recall taking it from his brother’s body. Why? Why did he have it? Daryl unclenched his fist and the heavy knife fell to the ground. Falling to his knees, then to all fours, Daryl starred down at the bloody knife.
    The events of the night assaulted him. Glenn and Maggie. His beatings. The arena. And Merle. Seeing his brother again. “Jesus!”  He was bit. Merle had gotten bit. This was it. He was it. He was the last of his family. When they returned to the roof to look for Merle, Daryl knew he was still alive. Merle was a tough S.O.B. and…he shook his head. There was something...a feeling... something told him his brother was still alive this whole time. Now he was gone. Gone by his own choice. Opted out. Andrea wanted to opt out at the CDC. She’d lost her sister. Her blood sister. She had no family left. Neither did Carol.  Jesus! Is this how they feel…alone. So damn alone. Daryl had no family left.
     ‘Fuckin’ world…fuckin’ hell of a world’.
     A drop of water fell on to the bloody blade. It wasn’t dew from the brush above. It wasn’t rain. It was from him. A solemn tear. One lone tear, reconstituting the blood of his brother and trailing off the side of the knife.
     Daryl fell back against a tree. Tired. Tired of running, tired of fighting. What was he doing? What was he living for? The world has gone to shit so why fight it? Rick. He understood why Rick was fighting. He had Carl and the baby. He had to fight for them. Rick had hope. Hope for them.
      My world has gone to shit so why fight it.

 

  Chapter Three

 

    “Wha...?” Carol tried to catch her breath, ‘Wha...what do you mean? You just left him there?”

    “He was with me... with us. Then all hell broke loose” Rick hoped Daryl made it back to the prison on his own. Hell, he had prayed Daryl was already there. Carol gave Rick the same look she had given him on the highway when he didn’t return with Sophia.

   “No… No Carol THIS is not the same!” Rick walked up to her and Carol backed away. “Merle is THERE…in Woodbury. He’s some Lieutenant for this Governor guy. It was MERLE who did that to Glenn!” Rick exclaimed, pacing in front her. Carol turned to Glenn then back to Rick. “Daryl wanted to look for him.” Rick ran a hand his hair. “I told him we have to deal with that later. That right now, we had to get them back.”

    ‘What the hell happened?’ A million thoughts ran through his head. Did he go back to find Merle? Rick thought they crossed that bridge. To get Glenn back. Get him back to Hershel. That was the plan.

     Rick turned to the old man. Glenn sat on one of the steps, Hershel wanted to examine him the daylight before taking him inside. Maggie helped Glenn to remove his shirt while Rick could only watch. In the stark daylight, Glenn’s wounds were more visible. His slight torso was three quarters covered in bruises. His eye was swollen shut, and his jaw was twice its normal size. Maggie helped Glenn to his feet and kept him steady as he turned to show Hershel his back. Glenn’s back was like his front except for the addition of what appeared to be broad switch marks. Maggie began to sob at the sight.

    “My God!” Hershel exclaimed. “Carol, I’m going to need you. Maggie, help Glenn get inside now. Careful, he probably has a bruised kidney”

      As they moved inside, Carol stood there looking at Rick. She was stunned and sick to her stomach Daryl had not returned with them. She just stared at Rick

    “CAROL!” Hershel cried out the entry of the prison.

     Rick met Carol’s gaze. With their eyes locked, she shook her head as she slowly moved to the prison.

    “I…” she struggled to speak. “We need him, Rick!” she pleaded. Turning, she ran inside.  

    Rick let out breath, bowing his head and looking to the ground.

    “Dad”
     He needed to focus. He needed think. The site of Glenn’s condition alarmed him. Merle done that. That was what Glenn said, 'It was Merle,' Rick thought back to Atlanta. Glenn saved his life. Rescued him from the tank, but the rooftop…
   “Dad”
   ‘It was me who chained Merle to the roof. It was my doing.'   The abuse Glenn endured was not just for information. Rick’s thoughts went to back Randall. Daryl used the same techniques on Randall to get information about his group, a group of killers and rapists. Daryl. Daryl did that for the good of our group. Was there a difference? Rick saw Randall after Daryl was with him, it was bad. But Glenn…
   “DAD!”
   “Carl! Carl. H-how are you?” He quickly surveyed his son “Are you ok? How’s your sister?” Rick searched the prison yard and spotted Beth holding Judith. They all were ok.
   “Dad, is Daryl alright?"
   “I’m sure he is, Carl. He probably found another way back.” Rick hoped it was true, but he knew any number of things could have happened. Things in Woodbury turned bad fast. He looked over his shoulder at Michonne where he locked her in the guard walk. She stood there staring at him, her sword was in his hand. He didn’t trust her. Too many questions were running through his head to deal with her now. As he turned to look back at Carl, he spotted the small group in field yard. There were four of them. They slowly moved toward the fence that separated them. It was a cleared yard, where they spent their first night. Rick drew his gun and moved quickly to the fence.
    “DAD! DAD No!” Carl ran after him. “They’re not walkers; dad.”

    Rick stopped. His gun still trained on the group.

   “I found them…in the prison.” Rick turned to his son. “They are not walkers, dad.” Rick approached the fence with his gun trained on the group in front of them. Carl stood by his side.

   “My name is Tyreese, This is my sister Sasha” Tyreese paused for a moment before moving to others in his group “This is Allen… and his son Ben.”
   “Over there” Rick referred to the body on the ground several yards from the group. “Who is that?”  
    “It’s my...my wife. Ben’s mother.” Allen turned to his son. Ben hung his head and turned his back to the group.
     “I...I’m sorry for your loss. I lost… my wife too.” Rick lowered his gun “What happened?”
    “She got bit.” Tyreese said as he shifted the shovel from one hand to the other.
     “Please set down the shovels and step away from the fence. Carl, stay here.” As the group laid down their shovels and backed away. Rick pulled Carl back, handed him Michonne’s sword and whispered to him. “I need you to watch my back, son.”
     “Dad, they’re okay."
     “Probably, Carl, but I have to be certain. We have to be careful” Rick unlocked the gate and saw the group shifting looks between Carl and Rick. He saw the group shift their gaze between him and Carl. 
     “Don’t let his size fool you. He’s damn good with a gun.”
     “We’re aware how good he is.” Tyreese held up his hands not contesting Rick’s words.
    “Show me your wife.” Allen hesitated regarding Rick’s request. Tyreese turned to Allen. Allen shook his head and headed toward his dead wife’s body.
     The group followed, leading Rick to the gravesite they were digging. Rick turned to Carl. His son nodded to him. Rick looked to the prison entry and saw Hershel and Carol standing there watching. Rick wanted to be sure this group knew to care for the corpse properly with a kill blow to head. He could not have his group compromised, especially with Daryl gone.
    When they reached the body. Tyreese pulled back the covering. Rick fixated on the woman’s face. Grey. Ashen. Thin. Long, dark hair matted with blood. Rick felt sick, weak. ‘How did they find her?’ His legs gave out for under him, his knees landing onto the ground beside the woman’s lifeless form. Rick didn’t see this man’s wife. He saw his.
    “LORI” He cried. “Oh my God, Lori! No Baby no!”
    “DAD?” Carl screamed out. He ran into the yard after his dad. Carol darted off the steps of the landing even before Hershel told her to go to Rick.
    “Bring him here. Bring him inside!”
     Rick moved closer to the woman and attempted to hold her.
    “Hey!” Ben charged after Rick while Carol and Sasha held him back. Carl got in between Rick and the dead woman. Rick was crying.
    “DAD!” Carl began to cry. “Dad no! That’s not Mom! Dad, it’s okay. It’s not Mom!" Carol got to Rick’s side; with arm around him, she helped him to his feet.
   “Rick! Come with me. It’s not Lori. Come inside with me.” She turned Rick away and headed for the prison. “Carl?” Carol look at Carl and motion with her head toward weapons. Carl, understanding, retrieved his father’s gun and the sword he dropped. Walking backward and with tear filled eyes he kept his focus on Tyreese’s group and followed Carol and Rick into the prison.
   “They left the gate open, we can leave when we’re done here.” suggested Allen. Tyreese’s eyes were lock on the prison entry.
    “We’re not going anywhere.”

 

Chapter Four

 

      The Governor stormed into the room and gave orders to his men to make sure every access point is well guarded, every structure in town searched. When the guards left, he slammed the door hard behind them. Andrea watched him from the corner of the room. She stashed the gun behind the cushion of what looked like a rarely used chair. He went to his desk and looked down upon it surface. In a fit of rage and one swift swing of his arm, he swiped his desk clean. Books and papers went flying. With knuckled fists, he braced himself to cleared desk, seething with rage.
      “Phillip?” Andrea spoke softly. “Phillip, did you kill them?”
      The Governor turned to her slowly. He could see she was crying. Andrea took a step back as he stepped closer.
      “He was a friend?” He asked cautiously.
      “You killed him!” Andrea spotted his past tense phrasing. He was sizing her up. Watching and waiting for her reaction. Andrea braced herself against the wall and began to cry. He stood there and watched her.
      “I was wrong. I thought there was something here. That Woodbury could be a place I could stay- stay here with you” Andrea look at him through the tears she conjured up. She shook her head and lunged at him.
      “You BASTARD… this isn’t right. You didn’t know him! You didn’t give him a chance!”
      Andrea began pounding her fist on him, several blows connecting to his face. The Governor grabbed her by the wrists stopping her. Andrea began sobbing hard and slumped to the ground.
     “You didn’t know him…know how decent of man he was.” her voice became low, desperate. Andrea reflected back to the walk in the woods that night her and Daryl took as they looked for Sophia. Daryl’s perspective was…different. It’s easy in this world to go off half-cocked and have your fears get the better of you. Daryl keep a level head, always stay focused on the realities they faced.
      “He…he saved me. I wanted to die, he saved me.” Andrea said quietly, realizing this for the first time. “Now he’s gone.”
    The Governor stooped to help her up.
   “Shh…it will be okay.” He brushed the tear soaked hair from her face.
   “No! No it won’t be, Philip!” she pushed him away. “I thought I found a place. You have something truly incredible and…” she shook her head “... and you don’t see it. You don’t get it.” She gave him a disgusted look.” You killed him… killed them.” She shook her head. ”You don’t get it, Philip. You didn’t give him in a chance. With the world, as it is today, people need a chance.” Andrea began crying.
    “What is it you think I have here?” He asked as he sat on the corner of his now cleared desk.
    “A good thing! A community. A place many think is long gone and something they long for. Not everything out there is a threat. Daryl was not a threat.” She shook her head. “You killed him without knowing him.”
    “He destroyed our town” He stated flatly.
    “Why? Why would he do that? Philip I know him. He wouldn’t destroyed a place like this. Not Daryl…Not without a rea..” Andrea stopped.
    ‘What the hell!’  Daryl had a reason for being here and she knew even if that reason was Merle he wouldn’t have attacked Woodbury. Daryl would have waited…watch the town. Maybe signal to Merle if he could. Daryl was no fool! Even if Michonne and Daryl came here together they wouldn’t have risk such an attack on heavily armed encampment. They had a reason other than Merle for coming here. The Governor stood up and watched her. Andrea turn pale, shaken by the thoughts she was having.
    “I-I need to go.” Andrea turned and headed for the door. ‘Stay calm, girl’ she chided herself. “I need…need some air”
    She opened the door, the guards were still there. She turned to the Governor.
   “Philip, I need to get out of here.”
   “They are there to protect us. There are terrorist about.”
     Andrea looked at him in disbelief. She now had a better idea of what happened tonight. Andrea knew Daryl made it out safely and yet Philip wanted her to believe Daryl and Merle were dead. He never corrected her accusation toward him. Daryl was here to rescue someone and it wasn’t her. If it was he would stated as much when she met with him. He restrained himself in giving details about the others. He must have been here because of them.
    “Here, come sit by the window for a bit. Get some air.” He gently guided Andrea to the window. “Be careful now.”
     He stood behind her. His hands placed gently on her shoulders. He pulled back the curtain. It was morning now and she could see the aftermath of last night’s events. Armed guards were still moving from building to building. Frighten residents were opening their homes to be search.
    “See. It is not safe. There may be others.” He kissed the back of her head. “I’ll fix us a drink.”
     Andrea hoped Daryl and Merle were free of this town. She had regrets now, wishing she were with them.

                                               

 

      The chill of the morning air brought Daryl out of his thoughts and back to his surroundings, that or the cold feeling of loneliness. Daryl stretched out his leg. In doing so he kicked the gun bag. He stared at it a few moments. He would have to wrap his mind around the meaning of his fucking life later. He had to get the guns back to the others. Andrea was right. He saw the governor’s arsenal and they would need all the help they can get.

      As Daryl stood he heard a snap of a twig behind him. Quickly he grabbed his bow and Merle’s knife and made every effort to conceal himself behind the tree. He definitely heard it just wasn’t sure how far he was from it. He moved the knife to his right hand waited and listen. He heard another break. It was some distance off maybe about 75-100 yards. Peering out from behind the tree Daryl saw fifteen - twenty walkers heading straight to him. Daryl cursed. He had to move, to get out there some way. He looked at his pathway out. On it saw patch of wild leeks-stink weed as he come to known it. He searched the area around him and found more lying near the gun bag. He grabbed the knife and dug up the odorous plant. He pierced the roots releasing the strong odor. He wrapped several of them in his rag.                             
     Quickly he cleaned an arrow. He pierced the flesh of his palm He watched as the pool of blood welled in hand. The growl of the walkers became louder. Daryl began marking several trees near with the blood. Satisfied several was well marked he grabbed the stink weed filled rag and wrapped it around his wound, hoping the vile scented herb would mask the scent of his blood. He put his arms through the handles of the gun bag wearing it as backpack. He grabbed his bow and quickly began moving from tree to tree, hoping the diversion would work. It was for now. The walkers headed straight to them. Daryl moved swiftly but cautiously. He could now see the road where the car parked, as he moved closer he saw it was gone. He was on his own. He decided to stay undercover of the tree line but quickened his pace. He was tired, sore and hungry, but Daryl Dixon was determined to get back home.

  Chapter Five

 

      “You have to take these Rick” Hershel pleaded. “You aren’t doing yourself…or us any good. You need sleep.” Carol had gone to the infirmary at Hershel’s request. She returned with several bottles of sedatives.
      “I can’t! I need to go back,” Rick turned away and headed for the door. “I have to find out what happened to Daryl”
     “Rick! Get back here!”
     Carl ran in front of his father and closed the cell to the common room.
     “Dad, please listen to him. Please!” He pleaded with him “I’m sure Daryl’s fine. He can take care of himself, right?"
     “We’ll pin you down if we have to.” Rick turned and saw Glenn. He was out of bed watching the group trying to reason with Rick. “Hershel’s right. You are not doing yourself or us any good like this.”
     Rick nodded resolving to take the sedative.
    “Maggie, bring Michonne inside. Lock her in a cell. He gave her the keys and a set of cuffs. “The other group…”
     “They been staying in the other cleared cell block. They can’t get to us.” Carol assured him
      “Beth get some water for Rick and heat up some soup. You…” Herschel turned to Glenn “Get your ass back in that bed, or you’re getting one too.”
       Rick and Herschel moved into the common room. Beth gave the water to her father who selected the medication from the array of bottles Carol retrieved.
     “Your boy is right. Daryl can take care of himself.” Hershel knew once Rick got that fact set in his head Rick could rest. “He is one man you don’t need to worry yourself about. Isn’t that right Carl.”
     “He’s right, Dad. And we’ll be okay. I’ll make sure everything okay.” Rick looked to his son. Carl gave him a reassuring smile. Rick smiled back at his son…his little man. He took the sedatives. “Good man,” Hershel patted Rick on the back. “Now don’t fight them.
     “RICK!” Maggie shouted from the prison yard. Rick sprang into action  
     “What is it? What’s going on?" Glenn called from his bunk.
     “Beth! Take the baby!  Carol, come with me! Glenn do you have a gun with you?” Carol handed the baby to Beth, Rick gave Carol a rifle.
     “YEAH! What the hell is going? Where is Maggie?”
     “I’ll take care of it, Glenn stay put, you too Carl. Keep everyone safe in here.” Rick and Carol headed for the prison yard. Maggie was walking up the steps with a restrained Michonne. Everything in the yard appeared calm.
     “What’s wrong? Rick asked.
     “It’s Daryl!” As Maggie moved past Rick she handed him the keys. “He’s headin’ up the path”
     Rick and Carol ran to the gate and stopped. Daryl was standing there    
    “You gonna let me in or what?” Daryl asked, gruffly.
     Rick shook his head and smiled. He opened the gate. Carol laughed pressing her hand to her heart. She surveyed his appearance and saw the bruised gash on his face.
    “My God, are you okay? What happened?”
    “Ya, I got clocked, next thing I know I’m strapped to a chair.” Daryl walked past the two and headed for the prison. It was then Rick saw it. His bag of guns. Last time Rick saw them was at the farm.
    “Daryl?"
     Daryl stopped and turned to Rick
   “Where did …” He pointed to Daryl but thought he was seeing things. “…my bag of guns?”
    “Oh ya.” He removed the bag and handed them to Rick. “Andrea’s alive. She’s in Woodbury. She gave them to me.”
    "S-she’s in Woodbury…? Carol stammered in disbelief. “She’s there with Merle?" 
    Daryl hesitated to answer
    “Merle’s dead” he said softly. “He got bit” He turned and headed for the prison. Carol and Rick followed Daryl inside, neither one of them saying a word to him. They knew him well enough to give him space and allow him to choose the time to talk about it. He walked by Carl and Hershel and nodded to them both. He headed for his perch but stopped outside of Glenn’s darken cell. He took a step toward it but stopped as Maggie stepped out of the shadow.
    “That’s far enough!” Maggie steeled herself before him. “Your concern for him now is …”     
    “MAGGIE!” Glenn stopped her. “Please Maggie.” Glenn slowly stood up and move to the door. He was shirtless but wore bandage around the rib section of his torso. Daryl took in the sight of Glenn’s condition, he clenched his jaw in anger.
    “Glenn, I...”
    “You’re not Merle, Daryl. I know that. I know you. You are not like him.”
     Daryl turned and saw the others watching him. It was awkward. The site of Glenn was unsettling and it angered him the Merle was responsible for it. He looked at Glenn and gave a sheepish nod. He headed toward his perch
    “I-I’m going to wash up.”
    “When you’re done I would like to examine you.” Daryl turned to Hershel. The Old man continued. “I see you’ve been hit. One can’t help to notice your wounds.”
     Daryl nodded.

 

     

     Daryl finished bathing. He wrapped a towel around his waist and grabbed another to dry his hair. He sat on the shower room bench. His thoughts going to Merle and what happen last night. It was nearly a year sinceheseen him. Merle had been alive the whole time living is some town. He was near and now he was gone.

     It was for the better. Daryl knew it was but was afraid to admit. This revelation came deep from inside him and unnerve he had such a thought. Merle made his life hell, treating him like shit as they we’re growing under the guise he was did so to toughen him up. The SOB was always wrapped up in own shit and Daryl saw what their fucked up life did to Merle…what it did to him. He left. Merle left him in that house and the fucking prick took it out him. Wanting to find out where Merle went. The old man didn’t believe him when he told he didn’t know but he continued to take the rage out him. Merle stole from the old man, took the cash and lit out there.

    Daryl got up and walked to the rolling wire hamper. He stopped when he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflective steel mock prison mirror. His torso bruised from the night before and gash on his face from when they clocked and captured him. His appearance shocked him. He was the leanest he ever been. Fucking, sick world. He look away in disgust. Chastising himself for letting this shit get into his head. He turned to the hamper but the inner hell continued. This time it was a glimpse he caught of his back. Now he saw beyond the bruises from the night before. His gaze was locked on the scars left but his old man-welts from a plank of board and switch marks from a fucking nearby branch. Daryl grabbed the wire basket and hurl at his reflection.
    “Damn you, Merle!! Daryl didn’t hear Rick come in, didn’t know how long he stood there. He could tell Rick was nervous, probably frighten by his outburst. Daryl steadied himself. He looked at Rick. As awkward as the moment was, the site of Rick calmed him, and humbled him. Daryl attempted to walk passed him and paused. He was ashamed, embarrassed, by his appearance, his scars and his outburst. He moved past Rick keeping his back away from his view.
    “ I—I’m sorry about Merle. You…” Rick sighed “…you know.. um my time and eh’ Rick sighed” experience with Merle….”
     “Stop!” Daryl tossed the towel aside and put on a pair clean pants. “I know you had no love for my brother. Hell even I know what a pain in the ass he was.”
      Rick nodded.
    "Still, to you he was blood. That… “Rick paused. ‘That meant something to you” Daryl nodded. He sat on the bench and reached for his boots.
     “I... I need to know, Daryl.” Rick paused and braced himself “I need to know if you went looking for him?"
     Daryl held a boot in his hand. He saw Rick jaw stiffed and grit his teeth. He move closer to Daryl looming over him.
     “I NEED TO KNOW, MAN. I NEED TO KNOW YOU HAVE OUR BACKS! DID YOU IGNORE MY ORDER AND GO LOOKING FOR HIM?”
      Daryl threw his boot at the towel cage
      “I was CAUGHT!” Daryl stood to meet Rick verbal attack. “I GOT THE SHIT BEAT OUTTA OF ME AND THROWN IN PIT SURROUNDED BY WALKERS.” Daryl fell silent He voiced cracked as he continued.
     “That bastard wanted us to fight each other!” 
      The sickening ordeal brought fresh back into his mind. It angered him. Rick angered him. He charged into the man and pinned him against the wall.
     “WHAT IF I DID? “ He challenged “He is BLOOD!”
      “Daryl! Rick!”
       Daryl closed his eyes at the sound of the old man’s voice and backed away from Rick. It was Hershel he stood behind Daryl. He realized now the old man saw his back.
      “Rick. Daryl. Sit down.”
       Daryl turned to the old man. Hershel grabbed Daryl’s shirt and held it out to him. Daryl snatched it from his grip. Daryl put on the clean shirt and began to button it but Hershel stopped him.
     "I still need to examine you.” Daryl looked at the old man and scoffed. Rick paced back and forth.  “Please both of you, sit down." Both men sat down side by side on the bench. Hershel silently regarded the two men. “We’re are living in some sort of twisted hell but…well, I hate to use clichés that are old hat but when it works to convey a meaning, I suppose it is best. It is times and events like this separate the men from the boys. The good from the bad. You two are good men. In the short time I have known you I have seen both of grow into fine decent men.”
      He looked at Daryl
      “I don’t know your brother. Never meet the man. All I can do is go but what I heard… and what I have seen. From what I gather. From what I know…you are as different as night and day. I think we all understand blood is thicker than water. We are living in a different world now. A world where one truth that held water in the past can no longer. This world changes people, effects them. The fight is stronger, one’s mind can be clouded with the struggle to survive. Also, though bonds become stronger. I understand Merle was the only blood you have left. That loss must be devastating.”
       Rick looked to Daryl who remain quiet.
      "‘You need to know something thing…both of you do. We’re a family here. Not blood but just as strong. This world change that. It brought us together, brought us closer and we formed a trust. There might not be blood between the two of you but you are brothers in every sense of the word… every sense of this world”
      Hershel turn to Rick.
      “I often heard you called Shane your brother and I don’t doubt you felt that bond was real. You were partners on the force, watching out for each other back. You saw how this world changed Shane. It’s different with you two. You are loyal to each other. Loyal to the core and loyal to this group.”     
     Hershel placed a hand on Daryl.
    "I am truly sorry for the loss of your brother."  He sighed and looked away with sadness in his eyes. “We all lost so much. You still, though, have family, right here.”
    Rick patted Daryl on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Hershel smiled at the endearment.   
    “One more thing” Hershel continued “Any man….” he looked to Rick and then to Daryl. Daryl looked up and met the old man gaze. Hershel smiled. ‘Any man in right mind would be proud to have you two men as sons.”
    Daryl bowed his head and nodded.
    “Now let me have a look at your bruises.”    
    “Better let our old man have a look” Rick smiled and stood. As he headed for the door, patting Hershel on the back. He pick up the boot Daryl tossed and turned back to the two men.
    “Daryl about earlier…”
     Daryl nodded. “ It’s alright.”
     Rick tossed the boot to Daryl and walked out.
    “Son?”  Daryl look at the old man sheepishly. “Take off your shirt now so I can have a look.” Hershel continued. “Have I ever told you about my father?”

 

Chapter Six

 

   “Daryl!” Rick called up to the Daryl’s perch. After being examined by Hershel, Daryl went to his bed roll to try and get some sleep. He estimated it was about two hour of solid sleep before Rick woke him. Daryl groaned, wondering ‘when Rick sleep.’  He rolled to his side and sat up. From this view he saw Rick at the foot of the stairway of the perch looking up at him. “Come down here.”

     Daryl sighed. He grabbed his boots and in stocking feet he descended the stairs. Rick had the contents of the gun bag out on the gurney. Carol was in the common room cooking. Hershel was feeding the baby.
    “S’up?” Daryl stepped into his boots and brushed the disheveled hair from eyes. He could have used more sack time but knew any decent block of sleep time was impossible.
    “You said Andrea gave you the gun bag.”
    “Yeah after Merle and I got out of the arena. She found us hiding out in some store. Why? What’s wrong?’
    “Is everything there?" Carol walked up with a cup of coffee and handed it Daryl.
    “Yeah and then some. I found this in bag” Rick handed a book to Daryl. He thumbed through it scanning the pages. The close confines of the prison often made conversation public ones. Glenn and Maggie came out of their cell for a closer look. Even Michonne was interested as she moved to the entrance of her locked cell.
    “Did Andrea tell you anything about that?"
    “No, when I saw her with the bag I assumed she wanted to come with us. She said she wanted to stay. Gave me the bag. She said something about the Governor having all this firepower and thought we could use it. That was it. She handed me the bag and left”
     “A book?” Maggie asked.
    "More like a notebook; a journal of some sort.” Rick responded.
    “What is with all these marking?" Daryl asked.
     Maggie and Glenn moved in closer for a better look as Daryl flipped through pages and pages of slash marks.
    “If that is a journal isn’t he going to know that it’s gone? Carol question.
    The sound of a tin cup and some other indistinguishable items fell to the floor in Michonne cell. Rick and Daryl ran to her cell. The others followed. Michonne moved to the back of her cell her back against the wall. Rick grabbed the book from Daryl.
    “WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS?” Rick held up the book and shouted at her. A frightened horrified look appeared on her face.
     “Keys!” Daryl demanded. Maggie gave Daryl the keys and seeing the fury of the two men backed away. He swung open the gate and forcefully grabbed Michonne and hauled her out from the cell. He got behind her twisted her arm back and she yelped in pain. He pinned her face first against the wall.    
     “WHAT IS THIS? Michonne remained silent. Rick moved in close to Michonne
     “NOW! NOW you tell us EVERYTHING!” He walked away from her and paced back. “About ANDREA! THE GOVERNOR!”
      Rick palmed the book and slammed it against the wall next to her face.
     “AND THIS GODDAMN BOOK!”

 

 

        The Governor looked out on the streets of Woodbury. The town had settled down from last night attack but he can tell it was different. The pedestrian traffic was light, purposeful and gone was the sense of security and peace. No one was walking the streets alone. He turned away and caught view of his bedroom. The door was open and he could see Andrea barefoot from where she laid on his bed. He  slipped a sedative into her drink the night before to calm her irrational fears. The Governor smiled. She will see his way on matters soon enough.

       The governor went to his desk and began shifting through a stack of paper and books that rest on the corner. He reached the bottom of the stack and the feeling of panic hit him. Again he searched the stack. He search the remaining debris laid on the floor. It wasn’t there. His journal was gone. He began rifling through his desk opening and slamming drawers close. His frantic search left the area near the desk in complete disarray.   He stopped his searched when he heard Andrea groan in the next room.  Could she have taken it? If she did she had to hide it here. Guards were posted all night outside his apartment. The journal still had to be here. He went to his bedroom to confront Andrea. As he walked by his desk he noticed the bag of guns was gone too. The Governor rushed to his apartment door and swung it open. The two guards stationed out there came to immediate attention.
      “Have you two been here all night? “
      The two guards looked at each and nodded.
     “Yes we been posted here all night. “
     “You brought the girl here?”
     “No sir. That was Martinez and his group. We been posted here since your…your misfortune...wh… when that girl broke in. We been waiting for our replac…” The Governor slammed the door.
      ‘Michonne.’

  

The End