The Darkest Storm

Darcy stares down at her boots, watching as a fine line of dawn travels over them with every passing moment. She sits on the edge of the bed with her heels resting on the bar of the frame, cheeks rested against her palms and just…staring.

Darcy taps her thumb against the soft sheets, both hands now at her sides. She smiles at Daryl who lets out a soft snore and starts to twist her loose strands of hair together and into a low side pony tail. He stirs beside her, collapsed in a crumpled heap that proved he was more exhausted than he lead on. She combs her greasy bangs with her fingers and finally is content when they rest comfortably against her forehead.

A sudden onset of fear makes her body go rigid. An unexplainable shadow passes through the daylight. Her skin tingles, knowing it’s watching her. Her breath is hitched in her throat, and the heavy feelings in her stomach make her close her eyes and plead for it to go away.

When she opens them again, she holds her breath and has her amber-hues trickle to her left, towards the entrance of the cell. She sees the end of the coat flow out of view, and suddenly, she is on her feet chasing after it.

Darcy inches herself out of the cell, half of her sight blocked by the prison wall, the other scanning the corridor. A cold hand lightly touches the sheet that hangs as a door. She sees him, already down the steps and on the opposite side of the room. Solitary – that’s where he was heading. She tares the fabric away from her and jogs after him, quietly passing Rick and Carl’s cell as she does.

Darcy moves her hair out of her face and squints in the hues of the morning sunlight. No one would be up at this time, this early in the day. The prison has offered sanctuary for the people there, not a workload.

She follows the prowl of the figure resolutely. It saunters along in the hallways, creeps and presents itself in the room like thick poison. She never actually sees its face, but the re-lived weight in her stomach that she feels at every glimpse, tells her that its him – the same silhouette from her memories, her nightmares, and from last night.

Darcy isn’t exactly sure how long she keeps on the beast. With every corner she feels closer, as if she is gaining on him. Whether it’s the amusement of her own mind or a sign of things to come, she isn’t certain, but Darcy is unwavering in finding out.

It’s just when she rushes around the next corner that she feels she is able to reach out and grab ahold of his arm…but the foyer is empty. She stands alone with her mouth slightly open from her sharp intake of breath. Her gut experiences a different sort of emptiness.

The reason why she is down there is faint and distant, as if what was happening to her wasn’t real. She turns slowly, unwillingly, and wipes off her sweaty palms on her black jeans all the while keeping her eyes narrowed down the hall.

“Darcy?” A friendly voice asks.

Darcy jumps slightly at Glenn’s sudden appearance. Her heart is in a rapid state and she can’t seem to focus on his presence. She doesn’t answer. She looks at him and then back down the hall. She focuses on the small flickers the bulbs give off, thinking maybe she mistaken the shadows as something else.

Glenn shifts his eyes as he scans her stance. “Are you okay?”

Darcy nods slowly, “Yeah, I just –“

“You’re shaking.” Glenn points. Darcy looks down to her trembling hands and also notices her rumpled appearance. She crosses her arms tightly over her chest to stop it and hide her embarrassment.

“I just couldn’t –“

A crack cuts off Darcy instantly. The guard tower must’ve given way. No, there was no continual rumble, no trembles beneath their feet – only a deep echo that travels through the tombs.

“What the -?” Glenn mumbles. He wipes his eyes with his unbuttoned sleeve and takes a few steps towards the resonance.

It was a gunshot. They’ve almost become numb to the sound. Darcy blinks in reaction to the next trigger. In a hoarse whisper, she asks, “You heard that too, right?”

Multiple reverberating sounds follow. Darcy flinches and her skin starts to shiver. The shots continue without even the slightest inclination of letting up. It’s when the piercing screams of the inhabitants of Cellblock D reach their ears that Glenn yells with wide eyes, “We gotta go!”

Through the courtyard was the fastest way to travel from cellblock to cellblock. Darcy follows Glenn back through Cellblock C, and suddenly, the whole prison is in an uproar. The two try and push themselves through the growing crowd, each person trickling out of their cell and into the open, curious as to what the sounds are and where they were coming from.

Darcy finally sees a break in the gap and runs for it. Her heart is racing and her mind has snapped back to what is real, and what is happening then and now. Her appearance becomes somewhat relaxed as she kicks into action, running after Glenn and snatching her holster off of an armory table just outside the cafeteria along with her knife.

The glare from the sun bursts through the sliding door leading out into the courtyard. She pushes herself out, and suddenly Carol is right outside the door, scooping Mika and Lizzie up into her arms.

“Girls!” She sighs with relief, and then pushes them out at arms length. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

“They’re all in there!” Mika points back to the cellblock. “Everyone started screaming and we ran we-we were scared, I’m sorry I forgot everything you taught me!”

“It’s alright.” Carol hugs her again, and then stands to face Darcy and Glenn. With a stern, fierce voice she nods. “Walkers.”

Frantic footsteps sound from behind them. Darcy turns her head and sees Rick in full sprint, coming in from the fields. Her breath is caught in her throat at the realization. How could this have happened? The walls were secure, everything was secure.

“Walkers in D!” Glenn shouts. He sidesteps quickly and runs towards the door.

“What about C?!” Rick bellows. He turns and sees Sasha and Tyresse heading out as well.

“Clear!” Sasha says. “We locked the gates to the tombs and Hershel’s on guard!” She points back to the door.

“It ain’t a breach!” Daryl’s voice growls from behind Darcy. He runs up to her and lightly grabs her waist but pulls back immediately. “You right behind me?”

“Like always.” Picking up her feet, Darcy turns to keeps her gaze on Rick and waits for a command from her old leader.

Sasha broke in first, though. “We follow the plan!”

Darcy watches Rick as he twists and turns his body in different directions, gritting his teeth with a jutted jaw. He has played it safe, put away his gun, and stepped aside in his role as leadership for too long. This all feels unfamiliar to him and she can see it in his eyes when he starts running for the door to D.

Michonne’s whistle stops Darcy before she can even put a foot in the cellblock doorway. Her instincts scream at her to turn around and head back for the gates. Only Carl was over there and he wouldn’t be able to get them closed again by himself once she was through.

Darcy sprints towards the gates to see Maggie across the field doing the same. Michonne has slowed her horse as she passes through the metal barriers, only to get off and slay the few walkers that managed to make it past them.

But the walkers have gotten too close. Michonne holds them out from her with her bare hands, struggling and swaying her feet, but they become too much for her to handle.

“Hold on!” Darcy yells, grabbing one of her pistols from her belt before she finally makes it to the gate. She leaps over onto the opposite rope of Carl, hair swaying in her face and just focusing on pulling with all the strength left in her to get it open.

Maggie helps them tug on the gate just as Michonne trips and falls to the ground. Kicking a walker back, Carl fires the rifle that is always left by the gate. His eyes have gone wide and his mouth hangs slightly open. The ashamed words of his father flow through his mind.

“Carl, get the horse!” Darcy yells back, firing her gun at the head of a walker Michonne has managed to kick into the spiked fences. The animal would only draw more attention, and that is exactly what they couldn’t handle right now.

Maggie helps the woman to her feet and hurriedly drags her through the gates. Darcy stands with her weapon raised and her eyes narrowed. She back steps slowly, scanning the grounds in case something else was missed. But all she saw was the horde of oncoming walkers. The noise has drawn them in, bunching them up against the fences with an almighty force that shakes the very poles that hold them for support. She glances back to Maggie, as her jaw muscles grow tense.

“Darcy, I’m gonna need your help.” Maggie calls out, barely holding up Michonne who’s ankle as gone numb. She hurries over and lifts up Michonne’s right arm and wraps it around her shoulder for balance.

Darcy’s notices their sudden quiet surroundings. Something in the air is missing. “Firing stopped.” She says quietly. Carl has joined them now as they make their way up through the crops and into the courtyard. Michonne winces with each step.

A figure out of the corner of the small group’s eyes catches their attention. The sudden appearance catches them off guard. Darcy has her right hand on her gun still resting in its holster to be sure. But it’s only Rick, coming back out to check on Carl, looking more ghostly pale than he did when he went in.

He holds up a shaking hand to Carl, who is now running towards his father, relieved to see that he is okay. “Hey, you might want to stay back. Carl –“ Darcy’s jaw tightens when she sees the scarlet red that covers his hands and clothes.

Carl cries into the shoulder of Rick’s shirt, desperate to hold on despite his father’s protests to get too close. “Dad, I’m sorry I didn’t see you come out.”

“It’s okay, I’m here.” Rick says, his face contorting into panic and worry. “I’m fine, now back away.”

“I had to use one of the guns at the gate, I swear I didn’t want to.” Carl cowers and steps towards the other three who watch silently.

“I was comin’ back. I fell.” Michonne can see the contortion of Rick’s mind, so she steps in to defend Carl. “They came out and helped me.”

“You alright?” Rick bobs his head.

“Where are the others?” Darcy whispers, eyes still locked on the now stale blood on his fingernails.

“What happened in there?” Maggie asks.

Rick turns his neck as if to shake it all off, “Patrick got sick last night. Some kind of flu. It moves fast.” He pinches his nose. “We think he died and attacked the cellblock.”

His attention moves to Carl, “Look, I know – I know he was your friend and I’m sorry. He was a good kid. We lost a lot of good people.”

Rick stands up to point at Maggie first, “Glenn and your dad are okay but they-they were in there.” Then Darcy, “’N Daryl, he-he saved a lot of people and he’s okay too but nobody should get too close to anyone that might have been exposed. At least, for a little while.”

“Patrick was fine yesterday…” Darcy’s eyes dart to the ground and then back to Rick. She adjusts Michonne’s weight against her. “…And he died overnight? That quick? How do we – do we even know what it is?”

“We’re not sure – Hershel and the others, the Counsel is calling a meeting now to talk things over.” Darcy’s face falls and she rubs her forehead with her free hand. Rick looks towards the ground to avoid her wariness gaze. “That’s the best we can do for now, I’m sorry.”

-

Nobody should get too close to anyone that might have been exposed.

Rick’s words kept repeating themselves through her mind. Darcy clenches her fist against her mouth and paces the hallway just outside the library. She changes direction mid-stride and walks in short spans. Her posture is stiff as she curses under her breath. She occasionally will scrape her hand over her face as if to wash away any emotion she might show.

Darcy begins to get a headache. This was all too much. She crouches down at the end of the hall before she hears the Council speak. She rushes over on her toes quietly, peering around the edge of the doorframe and into the slither of a crack so she could listen in.

“…We have to separate everyone who’s been exposed.” Carol says.

“That’s everyone in that cellblock…” Daryl’s voice makes Darcy feel tightness in her chest. “Tha’s all of us. Maybe more.”

“We know that this sickness can be lethal.” Hershel speaks. “We don’t know how easily it spreads. Is anyone else showing symptoms that we know of?”

“Can’t just wait and see.” Carol’s voice is firm and unwavering. “I mean, there’s children. It isn’t just the illness. People die, they become a threat.”

Darcy can hear Hershel’s sigh. “We need a place for them to go. They can’t stay in D. We can’t risk going in there and cleaning it up.”

“We can use cellblock A.” Carol offers.

“Death Row?” Glenn asks. “Not sure that’s much of an upgrade.”

“It’s clean.” Daryl’s voice is lower than usual, slow. Darcy can only imagine the thoughts in his mind right now. “That’s an upgrade. Think that’ll work for Dr. S?”

“I’ll help Caleb get it set up.” Hershel nods.

Darcy hears sharp coughing to her right, and it startles her enough that she jumps away from the door and bolts down the hallway in order to stay unseen. She wasn’t supposed to be in there in the first place because everyone down there was exposed already and she wasn’t.

The Library door opens and the entire Council saunters out at the noise as well. Darcy stays hidden, but keeps her back up against the corner in order to still hear everything.

“You okay?” She hears Tyresse as the coughing continues.

“You sure?” Carol appears. “You don’t sound so good.”

“We’re just taking her back to my cell so she can rest.” Tyresse smiles.

“Tyresse.” Hershel sighs again and puts his hands in his pockets. “I don’t think that that’s a good idea.”

“Why? What’s going on now?” It’s Karen from Woodbury. Darcy closes her eyes tight. She’s sick.

“Think it’s a flu or something.” Glenn taps his leg uncomfortably. “It’s how Patrick died.”

“Judith is in that cellblock.” Hershel steps forward. “She’s vulnerable. Anyone that may be sick, or even exposed, should stay away.”

“It-it killed Patrick?” Karen tightens her eyes.

“She’s gonna be okay.” Tyresse says. “Now that we know what Patrick died from, we can treat it, right?” He starts to panic at the others’ fallen faces.

Hershel reads it, “Don’t panic, we’re gonna figure this out. But we should keep you separated in the meantime. We’ll have Caleb take a look at you and I’ll see what we have in the way of medication.”

“David…” Karen nods and crosses her arms. “…From the Decatur group, he ‘s been coughing too.”

Darcy hears Glenn draw breath then release it before speaking, “Ok – alright, I’ll get him.” The footsteps come closer and she sidesteps to the right, cursing under her breath once again. “There’s, uh, some empty clean cells in the tombs right – Darcy?”

Darcy is caught with her eyes closed and slightly wincing as if she was still hoping if she didn’t move, she wouldn’t be seen. Her hands are folded against her mouth and she slightly opens her eyes.

Glenn points at her in shock, “You shouldn’t be down here –“ Darcy motions with her hands to lower his voice. He looks back and purses his lips; they’ve heard him so it’s no use. “- it’s not safe.”

Something between a sigh and a huff of exasperation leaves Darcy’s mouth. The sound of footsteps startles her again. She hears the familiar ‘click’ of a crossbow against someone’s shoulder. She’s on her feet and at the mouth of the hallway in a flash, not wanting to look too guilty.

“The hell ya doin’ down here?” Daryl speaks quietly. His face is unreadable.

“Darcy, you shouldn’t be down here.” Hershel says from behind him. “You weren’t exposed, and you could catch it from anyone of us.”

“Ya ain’t gonna do that to yourself.” Daryl stays put in facing her. The others can barely hear him he’s talking so quietly. He wants to pull her aside and explain everything, but he can’t, he won’t risk the chance of Darcy ending up like Patrick.

“I’m not trying too.” She tells him. “I can’t sit here and do nothing.”

“We need to separate you from the others, us, and that means you too Daryl –“

“I know.” He snaps. Darcy catches a slight flinch when Hershel speaks his name. His shifts his stance and nods. “He’s right. You can’t be around me ‘till we figure this out.”

Unconsciously, Darcy takes a step forward and uncrosses her arms to speak. It was when Daryl takes an immediate step back that her heart drops into her stomach. It’s worse, much worse.

“How do you think Patrick got sick in the first place?” Darcy speaks through her teeth with forced restraint. “And now Karen, David? Anybody else could have picked it up just as easily –“

“That’s my only word on the matter, Darcy.” Hershel nods, speaking like the fatherly-figure he was to her. “We’re doing everything we can. Now you go on, find Maggie, and stay together.” He raises his brow.

Darcy takes one last look at Daryl before she turns to leave. His eyes do not meet hers but instead, they stare at the ground as he shifts his fingers around his bow. Things just got much, much worse than she ever could imagine them to be.

-

“…Just more and more shit we gotta deal with every day.” Maggie grunts as she pulls out the fire pick from a walker’s skull. She steps back with a disgusted look as it falls and splatters over her boots. She looks over to Darcy, standing at the ready with a metal rod doing the same, but clearly deep in thought, as she hasn’t butted in to her rant in a while.

“Hey?” Maggie squints in the sun as she faces Darcy. “You okay?”

Darcy shrugs and stabs another corpse. “Yeah, it’s just like you said; more and more shit every damn day.”

“You miss him?” Maggie asks suddenly. Darcy stops and adjusts her grip on the rod.

“Can’t really not miss someone like Daryl.” She mumbles.

“You were gone for a long time.” Maggie says, watching her friend drop her shoulders and finally look over.

“And that’s all my fault.” Darcy throws the rod down and puts her hands on her hips.

“No.” She shakes her head. “You wanted to fix it.”

“I tried.” Darcy frowns and wipes her face, smearing some blood splatter away. “The worst part was knowing I knew I wasn’t gonna find him.” She admits. “I think I did it because I needed time and Daryl, he…”

Darcy swallows hard and her chin starts to tremble. She lowers her head and her mouth falls open with each breath before she tries to bite her lip from keeping the emotions from washing over her.

“…I started to realize I did what I almost hated him for. I walked away for something I knew wasn’t going to get me anywhere. Had to leave him behind, leave everyone behind…and now all this is happening, and it’s Daryl, and I swear to God I couldn’t…”

For a moment, she’s almost foolishly happy thinking of him and then confusion sweeps over her. “I’m being stupid.” Darcy stops and picks up her rod.

Maggie sees her darting glances towards the man in the fields, digging the graves for the ones who’ve fallen that day, watching from a safe distance. “No.” Her face falls for her friend. “You’re not stupid.”

Darcy breathes out a laugh. “Then what am I?”

The brunette shows a sudden wide smile, “In love.”