The Darkest Storm

Darcy’s feet skidded to a halt in the dirt, “Hey, hold up!”

Michonne turns her head slightly, tugging on the reigns of the horse while she gives an amused look. “Look how much you already carryin’.”

Darcy gives a wide smile as she picks the untouched peach tree, “I’m not passing these up.” She places each one in her knitted-market bag Carol gave her.

“You really think adding what, almost a pound of peaches, won’t be too much?” Michonne laughs, “You’ve got that knife in your boot, rope tied to your thigh, the pistols on your hip, backpack, axe, bow, arrows, rifle…” Darcy looks from her feet to her waist as Michonne lists of each item. “You look like an action figure. I’m surprised you haven’t fallen over.”

“You gotta get those books to Carl…” Darcy feels the soft, fuzzy skin of the bright colored peach and places it again in her bag. ”I gotta get these to somebody, too.”

Michonne raises her eyebrow. “Who?”

Darcy looks back to her friend, squinting one eye closed from the sun and an excited smirk on her face. She shrugs, “Just somebody.” Michonne rolls her eyes playfully and turns back around. “Why don’t you go on ahead?”

“Nah.” She shakes her head. “Walkers will be all over the gates before you even get a chance to get through.”

“The wall is still down in the back.” Darcy tells her. “I’ll make my way through there.”

“You sure?” Michonne asks, tugging on the reigns.

“Won’t be too long.” Darcy shakes her head before she hears the hooves start to pick up against the gravel. Michonne yells back to her. “We’ll keep an eye out.”

-

Darcy left the picked-clean tree and started on the path to the towers. As she enters the humid afternoon, the glare from the bright light and the steel surfaces of the prison come more and more vibrant. The sound of soft human chatter mixed with groans of the undead also became clearer as she takes each step.

A small worn-in footpath leads up to where she needs to go. The carabineers holding the gates together are twisted and held no particular pattern. It only did its job in keeping the walkers out.

Before she takes one step out of the forest line, Darcy looks back and forth along the barriers and sees only but a few stragglers falling behind the true herd that were all huddled around the main entrance of the prison. She keeps an eye on the closest one, wipes her hair away from her eyes, and steps out into the open.

“Hey, hey!” A voice calls out. It stops her in her tracks. She can’t see clearly the person yelling whom she can only assume is at her, the sun is blaring at an awkward angle to do so. “Identify yourself!”

She lets out an aggravated sigh, “Darcy Shaw.” Her hands are slightly raised; looking towards the closest walker who only quickens it’s pace after the person’s voice grabs its attention entirely.

“Holy shit!” The person calls out. “Al-alright alright, uh - hold on I’ll let you in!”

A young boy of maybe twenty-years old runs down the rubble of the old knocked-down tower, a rifle similar to Darcy’s clutched in his hands. His hands are shaking as he fumbles with the locks, knowing the lone walker is close. He starts to wonder why Darcy isn’t fazed at all when the one-armed, sagging woman is only a few feet away. His answer comes when Darcy sets down the large bag of peaches and swings her axe with ease, putting the worry to an end entirely.

The latch is finally free enough for Darcy pass through. She hands the bag to the stranger, and easily slips in.

“Sick, thank you!” The scruffy brown-haired boy smiles at the peaches. Darcy gives a quick closed-mouth smile before taking her rifle off her back. She unconsciously has been thinking about Michonne’s point of the weight she’s been carrying and her back suddenly feels relieved without it.

Darcy starts to make her way to meet up with Michonne but the boy scurries to keep up with her. “It’s – it’s an honor to meet you.” He puffs out his chest and puts on a proud face. “Beth talks about you all the time.”

“You know Beth?” Darcy looks up at him but keeps walking.

“Yeah, we’re kinda a thing.” Darcy mouths an ‘O’ with a smirk. “Name’s Zach.” He holds out his hand that Darcy reluctantly takes. “Yeah, I’m uh, going on a run today with everyone. Volunteered.” He beams.

“Is Michonne back yet?” Her interest is evidently piqued. She turns to survey the young man carefully, teeth biting down on a dry lip as she takes in the unkempt greasy hair, the rifle that she is sure he is still learning how to use.

After a moment, Darcy steps forward, picking up one of the peaches the boy dropped in his efforts and weighs it in her palm. Zach watches with interest, fully aware of who this woman was and what she’s done. She tosses it to him as they round the courtyard corner; he barely catches it in a fumbled attempt.

Darcy sees a larger group of strangers huddled inside a shack, eating what couldn’t be mistaken for anything else but pork BBQ. Her stomach lurched.

“I’m not sure who that is…” He points to the front gates. “Is that her talkin’ to Mr. Grimes?” She’s forgotten that her and Michonne are the only ones who’ve been distant since Woodbury and other survivors have been brought into the fold.

Darcy raises a hand and looks off in the direction of his finger. “Sure is.”

“Darcy? Is that you?” Carol puts down the knife she was using to slice the pig and runs over to the woman, immediately engulfing her into a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Good to see you too.” Darcy smiles.

“You’re back early?” Carol does the same and looks towards the fences for Michonne. Her tone suddenly goes quiet as she leads Darcy back to the cutting counter. “Any luck?”

Darcy squints in a flicker and shakes her head. “No.” She rests her elbows on the counter and pushes her hair back from her forehead. “There’s nothing out there. No footprints, tire tracks – we even went back to where they found Karen and still,” She shakes her head, “Trail’s gone cold.”

“That’s what Daryl says, too. Every time you leave.” Carol sighs. “He’s not gonna be happy.” She wipes her hands on handkerchief. “Knowin’ you’re going out again.”

Darcy nods. “I’m not -” She picks at her fingers as she answers, “I’m not going out again.”

“Really?” Carol asks, unsure how she should react because Darcy’s face is currently unreadable.

“Finally listening to what everybody’s been saying – no use chasing a ghost. Got more things here I’ve got to worry about.” She nods. “Michonne though, she’s still looking.”

“Yeah, well, we figured one of you would continue on if the other didn’t.” Carol gives a relieved sigh and hugs the woman again. “It’s hard to convince you two of anything.” She points, “Peaches?”

“Oh.” Darcy remembered. “There’s a tree just about a half mile down the road. Picked it clean.” She hands her the bag. “Make sure he gets one, yeah? If you see him first.”

“Doubtful.” She smiles, but it quickly fades. “They’re going out on a run to the Big Spot, today.” She places down the bag and pulls some of the fruit out. “Not sure if we can spare that many people though with the build-up. Told him the same.”

“Saw that on my way in.” Darcy looks back towards the fences, lined with piles of walkers. Carol hands her a small bowl of meat she cut up for her.

“I know you’re thinkin’ of going.” Carol nods when Darcy thanks her for the food. “And I can’t convince you otherwise like I said. Just be careful.”

-

Daryl loads up the truck with an extra half-gallon of gasoline. Zach passes him; also loading other supplies in for the big run today. He wasn’t originally on the crew to go, but he’d volunteered since the Council had to pull back on members.

Turning back around, Daryl sees Beth talking to Zach, and scoffs in attempt to hide how much it irks him that basically, he has what Daryl couldn’t at the moment. Darcy was off running around looking for a madman that couldn’t be found when he wanted her, when he needed her, to be there with him.

He throws the towel down in the bed of the truck a bit more forceful than planned. It wasn’t fair. He’d waited his whole life for someone to look his way, to deal with his arrogance, emotional awkwardness, his past…and when he found someone who packed a punch just like him and he knew he didn’t deserve, she was gone again.

Daryl pushes his long hair back away from his forehead. He doesn’t feel like going through his thoughts of her again, not before a big run they’d plan for days. It was too emotionally tolling.

“Like a damn romance novel.” He decides to tease the two instead.

“Whatever, man.” Zach shrugs it off. “You were probably the same way.”

“The hell ya talkin’ about?” Daryl scoffs. “Ain’t never like that.”

Zach leans on the truck bed. “Oh, so when you saw Darcy back early you didn’ feel like getting even a little bit sweet on her?”

“What?” Daryl squints. “She’s back?”

Zach laughs, “Yeah. Saw her about a half hour ago.”

Daryl hesitates moving as he shakes off the feeling that his heart was suddenly in his throat. “Nah, you ain’t seen her. She ain’t supposed to be back for another week.” He closes the door and puts on his jacket. “That girl may not always follow the plan, but you can bet your ass she does when she makes it.”

Zach points. “I’m tellin’ you.” Daryl squints at the boy and picks up his crossbow. Zach’s unaware that he’s holding onto every word. “She was coming in the back way and she said her name was Darcy Shaw. Let her in myself.”

“Ya serious?” Daryl ties the crossbow to his bike in thought before he breathes out quickly and stands up to face him. “Did she say anythin’? Ask where I was? She stayin’ long? Where’s she at now? She look alright?” He takes fast steps towards Zach with each question.

Zach puts up his hands with a bemused smile, “Whoa, whoa, Daryl. Calm down. I’m not sure about any of that stuff. She only asked if Michonne was back and then Carol grabbed her.”

Daryl whips around towards the front gate. “You seen her? Michonne?” If Michonne were back, she’d be talking to Rick and Carl first thing.

“Uh, yeah, just by the gate there with Mr. Grimes.” Zach points. Daryl brings up a palm to shield his face from the sun. He squints, but can’t see clearly who’s in the small group near the crops. Sasha cuts the attempt short before he could really make them out.

“We’re ready.” She nods, twisting her head to the left and bobbing towards the vehicle. “Bob’s coming too. Shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Nah, we’ll find out either way.” Daryl shakes his head, eyes still locked on the gate. He steps back towards his bike before he waves his hand in a circular motion and yells to the group. “Le’s go!”

-

“Nothing?” Rick subtly shakes his head in discomfort. “You didn’t find anything?”

Darcy has rejoined her friends, greeting happily by both Rick and Carl before he was sent away to brush down the horse. But now it came down to the seriousness at hand. It was always the same with this conversation; low, shaky tones, as if the Governor was just waiting to jump out behind any and every corner.

“Same as before.” Darcy has her hands on her hips and stares at the ground, teetering on one heel back and forth. “Nothing to pick up on.”

“Well, then, you’re done, right? There isn’t anything left to follow.” Rick rubs his beard. Michonne gives a wary look towards Darcy. He sees it, and sighs with disappointment. “You gonna stay a little while?”

“Just a little while –“ Michonne started, but the rev of the one and only motorcycle in the prison reaches the group and suddenly, Darcy’s heart is in her throat.

She turns, biting her lip to hide her excitement when she sees the smirk that only she can see. Daryl has practiced it his whole life; he gives nothing away. He doesn’t jump up or seem surprised, but simply pulls up in front of them and turns off his bike, relaxing back into his seat as if he was at a bar catching up with old friends.

“Well, well. Look who’s back.” He looks up at her, squinting with a now showing smile on his face.

Michonne nods her head once, placing a hand on her sword by her hip and sighing as if she heard him ask if their search was over. “Didn’t find him.”

Daryl nods slowly in return, pursing his lips as his heart sinks in. They weren’t here early to celebrate. “Glad to see you in one piece.”

“I’m thinking of looking over near Macon.” Michonne’s face falls completely, pressing on the issue that continues to tug at her heart. Daryl looks to Darcy immediately, biting his tongue, then over to Rick who shakes his head. “It’s worth a shot.”

“Seventy miles of walkers, you might run into a few un-neighborly types…is it?” His voice is calm but his eyes are piercing. Darcy knew where this was going. She doesn’t interject because she wants the news about her staying behind to be between themselves first.

Daryl shakes his head though when the two women are silent and looks to Rick, “Thinkin’ of checkin’ out the Big Spot, the one I was talkin’ about? You stayin’?

“Yeah, I gotta go out and check the snares. I don’t wanna loose whatever we catch to the walkers.” Rick pats his leg anxiously with his glove.

“I’ll go.” Michonne nods, starting to walk up the gravel hill to let herself into one of the vehicles.

“Right behind you.” Darcy points to her casually. Daryl catches a small patch of her leather jacket softly before she passes him.

“Ya’ll just got back.” He looks at her un-approvingly. If it were up to him, he would make her stay and rest for a few hours – even push to the point of making Darcy forget about the Governor entirely. Never speak of him again. Pretend he was nothing but a bad dream. But the guilt and utter drive in her heart makes it impossible.

Darcy notices Rick out of the corner of her eye, trying to nonchalantly pretend he wasn’t there. He doesn’t feel comfortable witnessing when these two are tense. “I’ll be fine.”

All of Daryl’s being complains and screams to tell her ‘no’. But he couldn’t do that with Darcy; he couldn’t do that to anyone because he would hate it too. “Alright. Hop on, then.”

Darcy brings her leg over and sits right behind him on the bike. Her fingers clasp the sides of his winged-vest and she enjoys the familiar feeling of being close to her old friend.

As they drive along the dirt roads and then paved streets, Darcy becomes comfortable and lets herself relax into him. But an ungainly shift in Daryl’s stance, as if to shrug her off, puts her on alert. She sits back up and barely touches him now, realizing he might need some distance since she hasn’t told him.

The large group parks a few blocks away from their target point. Daryl parks hidden behind a large brush, and doesn’t look back at Darcy when he climbs off and grabs his crossbow.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” Darcy asks.

Daryl stops in his tracks, back still to Darcy. She eyes the wings he wears on his back. He turns swiftly, taking two steps closer with a hot-temper she knows is rising from the flush color on his cheeks.

“Wha’d ya want me to say?” He waves his arm at her and his voice is heavy. “Can’ stop ya. You won’t quit. Ya just gonna leave again.”

Darcy’s face registers a flicker of bewilderment, and Daryl immediately jumps on it.

“What is it? Ya didn’ think I’d keep playin’ this lil’ game of yours forever did ya?” Daryl narrows his eyes. “Chasin’ ya around, pretendin’ everything’s gonna be okay, never knowin’ when or if you’ll come back?”

Darcy was completely unprepared for such an outburst, even though she rightfully should have expected it sometime or another. She hasn’t even noticed that she’s diverted her gaze to the disarray of leaves on the forest floor in shame. Then she looks up and there he is, ten feet away, just watching her while shaking his head so subtly it was as if he’s taunting her.

“Daryl, I –“ She was going to tell him, put both their minds at ease and finally just enjoy each other’s company and friendship once more like old times. Then they would do what they always would, hunt, fish, and gather supplies.

They would talk about security around the prison and decisions of the Council, give those familiar nods and exchanges that would leave the people around them in awe of their flawless communication and unspoken bond.

Then at the end of the day, when everyone else was asleep, they’d drop their guards completely and stand together in complete and total bliss, doing whatever they wanted and talking about whatever the felt like that night.

“Ain’t gonna fight ‘bout this now.” Daryl puts up a brandish hand and soon quickly drops it. “Got people countin’ on us.”

It was meant to be a blow. He doesn’t bother to stop, to think or reconsider his actions, it’s too late for that now. He blinks with his lips folded inward, taking another second to shift his weight between his feet.

Maybe he was waiting for her to say something. But he drops his glance and retrieves his lost steps. She doesn’t watch him as he heads for the others; she only waits to put some distance between him and herself before she decides to move forward.

For a moment Darcy can’t see right because of her thoughts, she’s distracted. But Glenn, whom she hasn’t greeted until now, comes up to her and gives her a labored smile. She draws him into a hug, feeling Daryl’s eyes on her for a swift moment.

“It’s good to have you back.” He tells her, holding the assault rifle in his hands.

“Everything okay?” She asks him, letting the wind and dying sun reflect on her features, tossing the loose strands of her hair around steadily.

Glenn looks to the pavement and she instantly empathizes with the uneasiness he carries. He fakes the same smile and nods, “Everything’s great.”

There is a bitter chill to the air even now, so early in the evening. Darcy’s hands are forced deep within her black leather jacket’s pockets, the collar pulled up around her neck, even with her red scarf bound tightly around her. She walks hastily with the others, resolutely even – boots slapping over the blood-stained parking lot as they veer, over to the barriers.

“Army came in and put these fences up,” Daryl approaches the high wired gates, much like the ones at the prison, that engulf the Big Spot. “Made it a place for the people to go. Last week when we spotted this place, there was a bunch of walkers behind this chain-link. Keepin’ people out like a bunch of guard dogs.”

“So they all just left?” Bob, a new member Darcy doesn’t recognize, asks.

Even here it is mostly deserted – this close to a town, she supposes, there should be herds of walkers passing through or standing alone in the barren suburb.

“Give a listen.” Sasha smirks, nodding to the background. Darcy eyes her attentively and lifts her ear to the air. She hears it, the distant tune of some orchestrated melody.

“You drew ‘em out?” Michonne presumes more than questions.

“But a boom-box out there three days ago.” Sasha responds.

“Hooked it up to two car batteries.” Glenn checks the clip on his weapon.

“Alright, let’s make a sweep.” Daryl weaves through the hole in the fence, something that Darcy believes was already there before to lure the walkers out. “’N make sure it’s safe. Grab what ya can, we’ll come back tomorrow with more people. Darcy –“

The sharpness of his tone snaps her head up. Darcy glances forward and even from this distance, she sees his body tense up as he slightly turns. She can see the tight set of his mouth, and the uneasiness in his face like he’s made a mistake calling out her name. It’s just what he’s used to.

“You’re on point.” His voice is raspy and quite low as he forces the command out. He snaps his crossbow up to his shoulder and focuses his vision, all the while Darcy receives a couple of questionable stares from the others. She is sure they all know what is going on.

The scene around them is much like the image only a few of them remember of the C.D.C. The only difference is, the bodies they find resemble more of mummified beings – decomposing skeletons with the little skin and muscle that was left on their frames.

“C’mon.” Daryl growls from up ahead.

As the group grows closer to the entrance of the building, it was clear that the group’s plan to vacate the area had worked with absolute success. There were no stranded walkers ambling about inside the gates. For now, it was safe.

Darcy hears knocking on the plexi-glass windows that stretch from the ceiling of the building to the ground beneath her boots. It echoes, the beats of Daryl’s elbow are bouncing off her eardrums.

He sits casually against the cemented ledge, “Just give it a second.” He can see her boots that stopped in front of him. He speaks to her, she knows it from the quiet tone in his voice, but he doesn’t look up to meet her amber-eyes.

“Okay, I think I got it.” Zach stands up from leaning against the brick wall. He comes over and sits next to Daryl. Darcy paces herself and walks further away from Daryl, something he notices and looks over to her for.

“Got what?” Michonne comes around the corner from the entrance. She gives Darcy a nod, telling her to stay close to Daryl. She knows what’s going on. Darcy’s explained it before. He isn’t in the wrong to be angry with her, to be upset. He doesn’t know the whole story. But Darcy’s patience is much like his; short and quick to burst.

“Oh, I been tryin’ to guess what Daryl did before the turn.” Zach smiles. Darcy glances over her shoulder and catches her friend’s eye. She knows what Daryl did. She knew everything. The look he gave her in return said the same.

“He’s tryin’ to guess for like, six weeks.” Daryl scoffs.

“I’m pacing’ myself.” Zach puts up a hand, “One shot a day.”

“Alright, shoot.” Daryl waves his hand. He’s amused, Darcy can tell, of this boy’s interest in him.

Zach builds up the momentum, rubbing his nose and putting his thoughts together. “Well, the way you are at the prison,” He looks to Daryl with narrowed eyes, concentrated to say the least and completely serious.

“Yeah, you bein’ on the Council, but you’re able to track, you’re helpin’ people, but you’re uh, still being kinda “Sir”-lee.” Zach speaks softly, revealing a hint of uncertainty while keeping his gaze firmly trained on the three who grew more interested with every word he spoke.

“Big swing here.” He licks his bottom lip and paces himself. Daryl nods in acknowledgement but says nothing. “Homicide cop.”

Michonne begins to shake her head emphatically and chuckles. She finds it funny enough to confine her laugh to a quiet snort. This grabs Daryl’s attention, who’s also amused but doesn’t show it as copiously as his friend.

“Wha’s so funny?” He asks.

Michonne stops laughing but her face is shiny, holding a hit of rose color on her cheeks from the amusement. “Nothing. It makes perfect sense.”

“Actually, the man’s right.” He retorts. “Undercover.”

Zach is beside himself. “C’mon, really?”

Daryl nods, “Yep. I mean, I don’ like to talk about it ‘cause…’s a lot of heavy shit. Yunno?” Daryl absentmindedly exchanges a knowing look with Darcy. She smiles at the situation, but knows the feeling that Daryl has; shame of his past.

“Dude, c’mon, really?” Zach grows more excited when Daryl fades his words off and stops talking for more of a realistic standpoint. “Darcy, you gotta tell me I can’t read this guy.”

“You’re impressionable, kid.” She smiles.

“Okay. I’ll just keep guessin’ I guess.”

“Yeah you do that.” Daryl shakes his head.

Darcy hears the growling moans of the walker before she sees it. It hurls itself against the wall just behind Daryl, and suddenly everyone springs into action. He stands up, walking over towards her and waves his fingers to hand him her axe. She does so without a second thought.

“You ready to do this, Detective?” Michonne mocks.

“Let’s do it.” He struts.

-

Darcy has passed up pushing around a cart. Instead, she carries her knitted-market bag over her shoulder with a large black flashlight in her left hand, scanning the aisles as thoroughly as she can with all that’s on her mind.

The store itself is quiet. The reserve was large so it had to have been early when it fell. The air is heavy with dust and the faint smell of dampness. The ceiling tiles creek from above, making Darcy lift her flashlight towards the roof and notice the dangling wires and sharp metal edges sticking out from it’s once solid infrastructure.

“Macon?”

Darcy nearly jumps out of her skin at the deep growl of Daryl, who has emerged from the gloom and was watching her with trepidation. When she shines the light on him, she glares and lets her hand fall from her hip, pistol cocked and half way out of her holster.

She turns around and continues to search, pulling batteries off one of the scattered shelves and placing them in her bag. “Thought we weren’t arguing about this now.”

“Yeah, well, we gotta.” Daryl tells her, following her slow pace. “’S too far, too dangerous, ‘n ya know it. Ain’t got nothin’ to follow there so lookin’ some seventy miles out is pointless.”

“Are you gonna let me talk or are you hear to lecture me?” Darcy puts down a case of old spam and makes a quick attempt to jerk away when she sees a questionable pile of ooze wriggling towards it.

“Already know what you’re gonna say –“

“Do you?” Darcy spins around and they almost bump into each other. She feels a slight stiffness in her jaw and grinds her teeth. She carefully controls her tone when she speaks, whispering to advert any attention they may cause. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”

“Don’ do that.” He pushes past her, flashlight out in front of him.

“No, by all means.” She throws her hands up towards him to continue.

“Can’t try ‘n convince me anymore, Darc.” He shakes his head.

Darcy nods, but tightly, as if holding back from speaking an insult. “Did you ever think to ask why we came back early?” Daryl turns around slowly. “I mean, you know me better than anyone. Stick to the plan.” She points.

“Why, then?” He shrugs as if he has no interest.

“I’m not going out anymore.” That statement alone has unexpectedly struck Darcy with a feeling of joy. Saying it face to face to the one person who matters most, the one who has been worrying and protesting all this time…it finally felt real.

“I’m done.” She repeats. “I’m moving on.”

Daryl’s posture is suddenly stiff, and his muscles have gone rigid. His skin tingles, and his heart begins to rate at a pace that almost makes him have to catch his breath. He’s unsure if he should run and hug her, or keep his distance. He’s still working on his vulnerability. It was tough to break since he’s been practicing it all his life.

Darcy knows he needs time to process it all, he usually does with these kinds of things. But she has no patience for it today, since it had been a long day already. She shakes her head in frustration and continues down the next aisle, waiting for him whenever he was ready to approach her. She could wait, because he did.

Darcy stumbles mid-stride from the sudden shake of shelves falling just a few aisles down. The sound of millions of shards of glass shattering followed by the screams of a newcomer named Bob reaches her ears, and she springs into action by sprinting over and skidding to a halt just as she reaches the scene. She kneels down; shining the flashlight through the small nook the shelf has graciously given her, and peers through at a trapped Bob who is smiling from the close call.

“You alright?” She calls out to him.

Daryl appears crouched next to her, “You cut or somethin’?”

“Nah, guys but uh, my foot is caught.” Bob looks to his leg and back at the two.

“Alright,” Daryl stands and pats Darcy’s back. “He’s just caught,” He tells Tyresse and Zach. “C’mon help me out.”

Darcy puts her shoulder underneath one of the elevated corners and grits her teeth as she pushes, but the wine spilt all over the floor causes her to slip and fall.

“Hey, you alright there?” Tyresse helps her up and checks her hands. She has landed straight on them, and small chips of glass has now etched their way into her skin.

She tries to rub them off. “Yeah, let’s just get him out of there.”

“What happened!?” Glenn yells from across the store.

“It’s alright we’re over in wine and beer!” Zach responds. They easily get one of the shelves off of Bob but he still remains trapped for the time being.

“I was movin’ fast man.” Bob laughs nervously. “I drove right through the drinks.”

“Man, you lucked out. This thing had come down on you the wrong way…” Tyresse shakes his head, widening his eyes and taking a double take at the scene in front of him.

“Wait.” Darcy’s voice has grown deafeningly quiet. She shines her flashlight at the ceiling once more, seeing the now rapid moving dust particles flow down to the floor like ecru petals.

The others followed the beam of light with wide eyes as the roof continued now, at an irrevocably unnatural pace, rupture from one side of the building to the other. Darcy makes an odd sort of whimpering noise.

“Hurry up!” Daryl yells, tugging on the heavier shelf that was Bob’s only ticket to freedom.

Suddenly, a hole in the ceiling gave way with a splintering crack. Daryl pulls Darcy backwards behind him as a body falls through, entangling itself on the metal pipes and wires that now stuck out at odd angles, stretching it’s intestines as it drops its weight down and hangs itself like a noose.

As soon as the pair steps back to fully comprehend the scenario that has just taken place, the volume in their surroundings rises to a fever pitch. It was a chain reaction. One after another walkers fell through the sinkholes that finally gave way from the rooftops. Blood has never splattered so far.

Soon, the entire group was surrounded. Darcy and Daryl have become separated along with the others from the chaos, but she stays close to Bob to somehow weasel him out from underneath the shelves.

Darcy swings her right hand backwards with the point of her tactical axe, hearing the crunch of the skull as the walker lets out its final moan. She puts it back in her holder and turns, sucking her cheeks in and biting down unconsciously. She lowers her chin as she faces the next oncoming walker, pulling out her bow with ease and shooting it down with little effort. She climbs over to pull the arrow out of the deceased skull when she hears one gunshot followed by another.

A hand encloses around her shoulder. Darcy turns, expecting that Daryl is there to get her to move, but he’s on the other side of the shelving that’s got Bob trapped.

The unmistakable scent of decay fills her lungs as she looks at the face the hand belongs to: his face is leathery like jacket she wears and his hair falls in thin, grey, wispy strands over the pieces of his missing skin. The flesh around his mouth was rubbed completely raw to the bone with one gnarled tooth chomping up and down was all that was left. Darcy only fights the urge to shudder because her time is quickly running out.

The wave of panic and fallen arrogance takes her by surprise. She wrenches her shoulder free and kicks the walker in the chest, sputtering more black ooze up and through its mouth at her. She blinks as it is strewn across her face. Darcy clenches her jaw shut as she approaches it. She reaches up with the hand that holds the arrow and sticks it straight into the top of its skull so forcefully that she falls to the floor with it.

Bob’s cries bring her head up and forward. Her hair dangles in her face, disheveled and caked with blood. She breathes heavily as her darting gaze travels to Daryl, encircled by howling walkers reaching for him up on the beer boxes. It was useless now to try and stay quiet.

Shots are fired from her pistol as she once again wrenches her arrow out of the dead man. A few walkers are distracted by the noise, but they are quickly taken out by her shakily, yet well-aimed, bullets. Something else from up above on that roof starts to teeter, and if they don’t move quickly they would all be trapped under the rubble.

“Daryl, move!” She yells, eyeing the metal beast from above, not noticing he was already making his way towards her.

“Ya alright?” He helps her up by lifting up her underarm.

“We have to get Bob.” She breaks free of his grasp and runs for the still trapped man. Daryl pulls a crawler away that’s managed to spot him, and steps down on the ripped apart skull to get it out of the way.

Zach is suddenly beside the two hunters. He lifts with his back and Daryl pulls Bob out with Darcy standing defensively on the outside, popping off rounds towards any walkers she saw too close for comfort.

“Darcy, c’mon!” Daryl yells, trying to lift Bob off his weak ankle. She spins, seeing one thing was happening too late for anyone to stop.

A walker from underneath the shelving unit has latched itself onto Zach’s ankle. It bites down, tearing the flesh off his calf like fall off the bone ribs. She has a mental flashback of Hershel in the prison. The walker pulls him down, climbing over his body and snapping at the crook of Zach’s neck.

“Zach!” Glenn yells. But that was it; there was nothing they could do. There wasn’t enough time to even try to pull him out, because the helicopter from the roof has concaved.

-

Darcy tosses her backpack across the cell. She unties her braid, scratching her scalp a bit more forcefully than she meant too. When her hair completely hides her face, she tilts her head to the side and purses her lips. This wasn’t her cell.

There was a bookshelf against the wall with a battery-controlled fan. Lights were strung through on the same side and it was more refreshing than the moonlight. The bed wasn’t a bunk anymore, but one single mattress that could easily fit two people. The sheets had a small pattern of your typical floral design and there was even a chair with a pile of neatly folded clean clothes in the corner.

What the hell is going on?

“Yeah…” Darcy spins around at Daryl’s unsure voice. He runs his fingertips over his chin repeatedly, stepping into the cell with his mouth slightly open. “Had a bunch of people come in as of late. Since we haven’t cleared anything else ‘sides D, don’ have much room for people.”

“I’m in the right place, aren’t I?” Darcy shows her palms towards Daryl, unsure if she should touch anything.

He chuckles quietly, “Yeah. Just meant that…’till we get more things settled here…” He shrugs, “Might have to room together for ‘while.”

Darcy senses something else bothering him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Daryl folds his lips inward and nods unconvincingly. “Same as I told Beth though, just tired of losin’ people. But,” He shrugs and looks to the ground. “Ya okay with all this?”

Daryl points with a lazy hand towards the cell. “Tried to make it all…” He waves his hand up in the air and Darcy breaths out a laugh.

“Yeah, its great.” She smiles. “Starting to think we could really live here.”

“We are.” Daryl nods and speaks lowly. “Ain’t nothin’ gonna stop us neither. Rick’s got crops now, pigs, we got light in here…everythin’s lookin’ up.” He hesitates with a shy shrug. “And ‘m glad you’re back. Everyone is.”

“Me too.” She scratches the back of her neck.

Daryl looks over his shoulder; there is no one but the two of them now inside the cement walls of their safe haven. The sheet hanging over the door is pulled closed, giving them somewhat complete privacy.

“Hey.” Darcy looks up and Daryl is suddenly in front of her. He meets her gaze for a long time, ice blue to golden-amber, and can see the nostalgia that reflects his own.

He blinks shyly and heavily, feeling the urgency of acting on his feelings before he second-guesses them completely like always. He takes a quick step forward but his movement is slow and steady. He reaches up a solid hand and holds the side of her neck to pull her into him.

When he meets her rose lips, they both melt into the sensation. It was a short kiss, but deep. She clings to his shirt when he pulls back. They both keep their eyes closed, wanting the feeling to linger. Darcy is the first for her gaze to flicker and focus back on what was in front of her. But something is distracting her from the corner of her eye.

It is a silhouette. A silhouette that she knows is not real, it can’t be. The same silhouette that she decided that day to give up searching for. The same that she now remembers haunts her to her very core. The one that she fears that will reappear very soon one day, and cause more destruction than it ever did before.

The Governor.