Living Like You're Dead

Daryl was now carrying a backpack and sack full pharmaceuticals. Half the stuff he grabbed he wasn’t even sure what it was, but he grabbed what looked important – and hauled it through the air vent from behind the counter, it took him significantly longer to find his way out this time, but eventually he did. It was surprisingly still nighttime, he felt like he’d been out here all night long.

He shook the thought from his head that it was the virus talking. It wasn’t the virus that confused his sense of time, it wasn’t the virus making him cold, it wasn’t the virus making him weak. He just had trouble jumping the clutch when he started the bike, and the bags… they were just really heavy.

Daryl was surprised that he didn’t have any walkers behind him – but he still stopped a few blocks down from the high riser, he didn’t want to take the chance to attract anything back home. The backpack was weighing on his shoulders… the bike seemed to heavy leaning against him, and he could nearly feel his blood boiling. But Daryl told himself he was fine, at least he would be fine.

If Addie could save Merle, she could save him. And Daryl had more faith in her than any God he’d ever heard of.

Daryl shut the entrance to the fence, he thought he could just slip the bike back into the truck and no one would be the wiser – but the truck was gone. Someone must’ve come down to move it with the other vehicles; Daryl didn’t have a key to the garage. He stashed his bike behind a heap of construction materials and hoisted both bags onto his body. Daryl was a very strong man, but he was having trouble carrying the bags, even though his mind told him he knew he could lift that weight… they kept on getting heavier.

Daryl was more than happy to find they had left the power on. The original plan was to turn it off at night, less chance of walkers would be attracted, and no one really needed the power after midnight. But Addie did, at least tonight she did. He gladly took the elevator upwards. Finally reaching the right floor - he stepped out.

Daryl took a deep breath and double-checked his wound, it seemed fine, he felt heat in his hand… but there wasn’t much blood yet. He opened the door with his good hand and kicked it the rest of the way open. His eyes were immediately met with Addie’s. He could already tell she knew that he had left, she was infuriated.

“Where the hell have you been!?” she said. She was at his throat the moment he walked through the door. She was covered in blood, Merle’s blood. She wiped her hands on a damp rag. Carol was clean, she seemed to be holding numerous instruments – helping Addie somehow.

“What happened?” Daryl asked. Carol took the bags from his hands, please to see the sight.

“Addie look.” Carol said pulling a bottle from the bag. “anti-biotics.”

“See if you can get him to take them.” Addie told her.

“Addie, tell me what happened.” Daryl steadied her, she was shaking obviously worried no doubt for him, and Merle.

“I was so worried when I saw that you had left. How…? How could you?” she asked breaking down in front of him. Daryl pulled her to his chest patting the back of her head. He shut his eyes tightly. He looked at his infected hand, wrapped in white cloth that was slowly turning pink… soon it would be red. He made a mental note not to draw any attention to the wound.

“I’m sorry.” Daryl said pulling her back from him and looking directly into her eyes. “I knew you need them, I knew I could get them.”

“But if you got hurt! Or killed!” she exclaimed hugging him closer to her. Daryl held her tighter. She couldn’t see the disappointed look on his face, but Daryl assured her anyway:

“I’m fine, just fine. No trouble at all. Now tell me what happened.”

Addie took a deep calming breath. Daryl was okay. Merle was still here. She had medicine.

“The disease ramped up again, basically firing every cannon. We’re trying to… win the war I guess.”

Daryl walked over to Merle. He could tell that the disease was winning. His face was stained with sweat, his teeth red from blood. He had good color to his face, but Daryl now realized Addie didn’t.

“How much blood have you given him?” Daryl asked her.

“I don’t know I lost count.” She said.

“More than ten.” Carol said. Addie still had elastic tied around her upper arm, and several holes in her lower arm.

“Jesus, Addie…” Daryl said running his hand through his hair. He didn’t notice that he had used his injured hand until he felt a piece of the fabric tickle his ear. He pulled it away and tucked it between his knees. Hoping neither of noticed his poorly bandaged hand. But both were concerned with Merle. Daryl pulled a small stool from the bar over to the couch.

The clang of wood against the floor seemed to stir Merle awake. He looked and saw his brother; he looked directly at him for a minute. Then Merle reached his hand and patted his knee before Addie bombarded him with white pills, trying to get him to swallow them with water. Merle quickly glanced at her for a moment, but didn’t open his mouth. He closed his eyes again, squeezing them tightly. Addie saw the small tear come out of his eye.

She gently touched his face. It was still hot from the fever. She couldn’t feel him breathing… she couldn’t feel a pulse. Addie turned to look at Daryl. Daryl saw just by the look in her eyes that Merle must not be alive. Daryl suspected as such, the way Merle gave him that last look, he seemed… like he had been waiting for him to come back. Daryl grabbed Addie, softly pulling her to him. She wrapped her arms around him so quickly. Holding him tightly.

Carol gathered the bloody rags, placing them in a metal bucket. Anything contaminated with Merle’s blood… and took them outside to be burned.

Addie had small tears streaming down her face.

“You did your best.” Daryl told her after she pulled away from him. She was now standing, facing him. Even though Daryl’s face expressed no emotion. Addie somehow read sadness from him. Sitting on the stool he was her height, but when he stood up, he was taller. He kissed her forehead, with both of his hands on her neck.

“I’m sorry.” she murmured.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare be sorry.” He told her. “You would be the last one I’d expect to help him, but you did, and you’re actually crying.” After a long pause he said. “I’ll be okay.” He noticed the elastic on her arm was leaving her forearm darker, it looked like it was hurting her, and she didn’t seem to notice. Daryl pulled a knife from his pocket and flicked open the blade. He used it to snap the elastic in half, she touched her arm, she hadn’t noticed.

She too felt the tickle of the unnatural fabric…

He could hear the concern in her voice when she asked: “Daryl what happened?” She said it so sweetly, so… innocently. Like she just figured it was a scratch. The cloth was now red – an obvious wound. She unwrapped it carefully, and slowly almost as if she didn’t want to know what was underneath.

The wound became unveiled – leaving no room for Addie to stop crying. She lightly touched the edges of the bite. First, she was mad at him. She had told him not to go – but he defied her, and went anyway, how could he have been so careless? Her hands were shaking, afraid. She was afraid for his life – it didn’t work the first time. Her fists pounded against his dirty cotton t-shirt. He held her tightly, and kissed her forehead. Trying to keep her from hitting him more than she already was.

But then the sadness over took her. She felt the utter sting of worthlessness. It settled into her stomach as she slid to the floor, she looked upon Merle’s body, one that was lifeless yet warm. She knew that it was only a matter of time before Merle became one of them, and perhaps for Daryl too.

The second man she loved to be claimed by this godforsaken disease.

Daryl knelt next to her, holding her close to him, God he didn’t want to let her go. The day she lay dying, he felt like it was the worst thing he could see happens to her… but he could see now she was more tortured by the loss of him – than the loss of herself.

After several minutes in Daryl arms, Addie's eye caught sight of the rubber band that Daryl had cut for her arm only moments ago. She picked it up and tied a knot in it and forced it up her other arm. Daryl seemed to try to stop her, but she was done crying, she was done being mad, for feeling sorry for Merle, for him, for herself - she had shit to do.