Walking With the Dead

Daylight was only a few hours away when everyone had settled into bed. It was too dangerous to leave Dale’s bloody corpse out over night. The risk of the gore attracting more walkers was too great, so the group worked all night long to get Dale in the ground. The men dug the grave, and the women cleaned Dale’s body as best as they could, and wrapped it in a thick blanket so they could transport his body with minimal mess.

It was somber work. Hardly anyone said anything unless it was to ask someone to get clean rags or fill a bucket with clean water. Occasionally the silence would be broken by a small hiccup, or a sniffle, but that was it. For the most part, everyone avoided making eye contact with each other. Emma made the mistake of locking eyes with Andrea. Seeing Andrea’s eyes watery and rimmed with pink almost sent Emma over the edge of sorrow.

Dale had meant a lot to everyone.

Once Dale was in the ground, everyone headed back into their tents. Emma had plans to return to her tent, unpack her sleeping bag and go to bed, but once she got to her tent, she couldn’t go in. Just the thought of being alone was paralyzing, and there was only one person she could think of being with right now.

Daryl had pitched his tent in its original place where it had been before he moved away to start his colony of one. Emma went to the tent and she knocked her fist against the permeable fabric.

“Daryl? You awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I come in?”

“You’ve never asked before.”

True, Emma had never asked permission to enter Daryl’s tent before, but now everything felt different. Dale’s sudden death had shifted Emma’s entire world. She wasn’t sure how to act anymore.

“Just answer yes or no.”

“Sure.”

Emma knew that was the most complete answer she would get from Daryl. She unzipped the tent and slipped her body inside.

Tears sprang to her eyes as Emma stepped into an atmosphere thick with cigarette smoke. Blinking rapidly, Emma could make out Daryl, lounging in his sleeping bag, a burning cigarette between his lips. Emma removed her boots, her jacket, and her jeans (she still wore her pajama bottoms beneath them), and started unrolling her sleeping bag.

“You’re staying the night?”

The question shocked Emma, and she looked over at Daryl. What else would she be doing this time of night? “I thought it was implied.” Uncertainty claimed Emma, and she chewed at her lip. “Unless you don’t want me here.”

Daryl assumed his default, blank expression. Then, instead of saying anything about the matter, Daryl unzipped his sleeping bag and motioned for Emma to get in. She slipped easily into the empty space in the sleeping bag and pressed her body up against Daryl’s side. He slipped an arm beneath her neck and curled his forearm so it pressed against her back, allowing Emma to rest her head on his shoulder. The sensation was calming, reassuring. After everything that happened today, she needed that close physical contact.

“I heard Rick and Lori talking. They said that tomorrow everyone is going to move into Hershel’s house,” Emma said.

“That’s probably best. Everyone will be safer that way.” Daryl blew a lungful of smoke into the air, and it tickled Emma’s nose, irritated her eyes.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” she said softly after a few moments of silence.

“I quit a few years back. But after today…” Daryl took a drag from his cigarette and exhaled. “It was just something I needed.”

Emma understood completely. Everyone dealt with trauma differently. Emma craved closeness, and Daryl craved cigarettes. That was why Emma felt bad about what she said next.

“Could you please put the cigarette out?”

Emma could feel Daryl tense defensively at her request. “Why should I do that?”

“Because my grandmother died from lung cancer. And I have asthma.”

Daryl’s body was still tense, and Emma was certain her request would go unfulfilled. But, to her surprise, Daryl put out the cigarette by pinching the ends of the cigarette together, and he turned his head away from her to exhale his lungful of smoke. “I didn’t know you had asthma.”

Emma shrugged and nestled her face against his chest. She had to search beneath the smell of cigarette smoke to find the smell of pine trees and musk that belonged to Daryl. It calmed her. “It isn’t very severe. It only affects me in the cold.”

“You’ll have to be careful this winter, then.”

Again, Emma shrugged. “I think it will be alright. The winters in Seattle are colder. This winter will probably feel like I’m on vacation.”

“I don’t know about that. Last year Northern Georgia had snow on the ground until March.”

“Oh.” Emma hadn’t known that. She should have, but she didn’t.

Emma could tell Daryl was exhausted, and she was too, but she couldn’t let Daryl fall asleep without confirming one thing.

“Daryl?”

“Mm?”

“The Travelers… They leave in the morning, don’t they?”

“Yep.”

Emma chewed on her lower lip. “And… Are you leaving with them?” Emma could hardly breathe as she waited for Daryl to respond, dreading a response she didn’t want to hear.

“No. I’m staying here.”

A smile spread across her face. “Really?”

“‘Course. Why? You think I’m a liar?”

“No. I just… What changed your mind?”

Emma’s head moved as Daryl briefly shrugged his shoulders.. “Way I see it, Dale was a real decent man. These people are going to be hurtin’ with him gone. Besides, you would’ve been a pain in the ass with the Travelers.”

That comment caught Emma off guard and she jerked her head back and looked at Daryl accusingly. “Excuse me?”

“Admit it. You never wanted to leave the farm. You were just being stubborn when you said you wanted to go.”

Emma frowned. “I wasn’t being stubborn.”

“Then why’d you want to leave?”

Suddenly, looking into Daryl’s clear blue eyes was too difficult. Emma lowered her head so it was resting on Daryl’s shoulder once again, and she closed her eyes. She knew why she wanted to join the Travelers with Daryl. The thought of being apart from Daryl, of possibly never being able to see Daryl again, was too much for her to handle. But there was no way she could tell Daryl that. It had taken Emma long enough to be comfortable with the fact that she depended on Daryl, and there was no way she was ready to share that information with Daryl. Besides, Daryl wasn’t the type to talk about emotions, anyhow.

But then those final images of Dale hit Emma like a hard fist to the gut. She thought of his mouth opening and closing, straining to get those last words out. What had he wanted to say? Whatever it was, it had to have been important. Did Dale regret that he never had a chance to say what he wanted to?

What if the walker had attacked Emma instead of Dale? It very well could have happened. Emma had been alone, walking through the farm just like Dale was. If she had been attacked, would she have regretted not having Daryl know how she felt? When she thought about it that way, the answer was obvious.

“I feel safe when I am with you, Daryl. That’s why I wanted to leave.”

Emma could feel Daryl’s eyes boring into her skull, so she sneaked a glance up at him. His eyes were bright and confused.

“I make you feel safe?”

Emma could tell she had crossed some sort of line, and Daryl was feeling uncomfortable. So she shrugged and made a small snorting noise. “Don’t get a big head or anything. It’s probably only because you have a crossbow.” She wrenched her eyes shut and stilled her body, indicating she was ready to go to sleep.

Daryl didn’t say or do anything, and after a few minutes Emma felt tiny hands pulling her consciousness into dreamland. Then, Daryl shifted his body around so he was facing her, moved his arm out from under her and, in replacement, threw his other arm over the small of her back and gently pulled her closer to him. His nose lightly brushed her forehead, and Emma smiled.

For the first time in months, Emma slept peacefully.