Mercy

Twelve days had passed by according to the little nicks that Mercy was making in the leather binding on The Catcher In The Rye. That made twelve days since she’d last talked to Ian – or anyone else in the group, for that matter. Ever since she’d attempted to leave that morning, no one had really talked to her. Not even Tonya, who’d seemed almost like a friend for the first couple of days.

She knew that she was running out of opportunity to get away from the group. Winter was approaching and even if they were in the southern states, where the winters were significantly less harsh than up north, it would still be a hard winter to get through if she didn’t find some sort of place to keep herself safe for the colder months.

That wasn’t the only reason she wanted to get away from the forest, she thought to herself as she tapped her fingers impatiently on the dirt beneath the tent. The more days that went by that she was stuck here, the further away the Dixon brothers were getting. She didn’t really give a shit about Merle so much as she did Daryl. She needed to see him again, even if it was only from the safety of the underbrush.

She needed to know that he’d survived after he’d left this camp. There was only a smidgeon of doubt that clouded her thoughts on him, but it was still there and as long as it was there, she knew that her nights would remain sleepless and the unease wouldn’t leave her bones.

Movement outside her tent caught Mercy’s attention and her hand immediately went to the knife holster on her ankle. She no longer had access to her main weapons – she knew that if and when she did leave this place, she wouldn’t be getting it back. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have a few smaller weapons that she’d found here and there on fallen humans and dead walkers when she’d gone out with Scott and Boyd on their hunting trips.

Before she had a chance to ask who was lurking around her tent, Ian’s head popped in and she narrowed her eyes at him. They both realized now that they couldn’t trust one another. Why he insisted on keeping her here when he didn’t even like her, she wouldn’t ever understand.

“Just doing a check,” he muttered to her when she opened her mouth to ask why in the hell he was there. It was then that she got an idea.

She could leave tonight. The moon was full, so she’d have plenty light to see by as she left the encampment. She’d always been a little quick on her feet, so she knew she could make it at least six or seven miles by morning light, and that was enough space to find a decent hiding spot to wait them out.

Of course, leaving wouldn’t be without its risks. Mercy realized that there was a huge possibility she’d run into walkers tonight if she tried to escape again. And if that happened, she’d have nothing but a couple of hunting knives she’d picked up. That would make it an even more dangerous attempt. That was exactly why she needed to leave. Mercy knew that Ian wouldn’t expect her to leave without her bow.

He would be caught off guard and that would make it easier for her to get the upper hand in escaping. She already had a small stash of food that she’d kept from each meal over the past twelve days. It was enough to get her through at least a couple of days out there in the woods, and by then she knew she’d be able to find some more food to get herself by. Hell, maybe she’d even run into Daryl and Merle.

Ian ducked back out of her tent before she could say anything else and she immediately began making the arrangements. She found every knife she’d stashed away and, like Derek had shown her when they’d first encountered one another, she began to hide them all over her body. One on each lower leg and thigh, and one on her arm. She put the rest into the burlap bag along with Daryl’s book.

It was a senseless thing for her to take, really, but she just couldn’t leave it behind. It made her feel like he was closer to her and right now, that was something that she needed.

The next thing she packed was the food and a couple of long-sleeved shirts. She could get the rest of whatever she needed on the journey; nothing else was really crucial to her survival except the knives and the food.

And so her wait began. One by one, Mercy began to hear the others going to sleep. She knew that tonight was Alison’s night to keep watch, and it would be easy enough to slip past her. Even if she did somehow get caught, she knew the meek girl would probably let her walk out. She’d seen fear in Alison’s eyes every time Ian was around and it almost made her feel guilty for leaving these people to his cruelty.

But this wasn’t a kind world anymore, not that it ever really had been. This world was one in which your own survival came first. It was kill or be killed and Mercy knew that if she stayed, it was only a matter of time before Ian had something happen to her.

She needed to leave.

When the moon was in the center of the sky, she knew it was time. It would be at least six hours before sunrise, which would give her a decent head start. She strapped the backpack on and then grabbed a jacket, knowing that it was likely to get chilly out tonight. As quietly as she could, she began to make her way towards the weakest part of the fence. It was behind Alison’s tent, which made it easier for her to leave since Alison was standing watch near the gate.

Finding the hole was easy enough with the light of the moon and within moments, the backpack was on the other side of the fence and Mercy was halfway through the hole. She stayed as quiet as she could, knowing that if she gave Ian any reason to wake up at all, the plan was off. She’d never get far enough away if he woke up now, and she had no real weapon to defend herself when it came to someone like him.

It took a little bit longer than she was expecting, but she finally got completely through the hole. Her shirt was a little ripped up and she had a couple of scratches, but those were no big deal to her as she slowly started making her way away from the camp. So far, so good, she realized when no footsteps could be heard following her in the darkness.

After about thirty-five minutes of running, she finally stopped. Mercy had no idea how far she’d made it, but she knew that no one was following her. She would have already heard them, and the only thing she had heard had been a couple of owls standing watch over their forest high up in the trees.

Suddenly, the rustling of fallen leaves behind her caused her head to turn around, eyes wide. Had someone managed to track her without her knowledge?

“Who’s there?” She whispered. If she talked any louder than that, she risked catching the attention of any walkers that might be lurking nearby. The last thing she needed right now was a fight with one of them. It was hard enough fighting them in the daylight with a bow and arrow. But at midnight with just a knife? She practically stood no chance.

She readied a hunting knife, prepared for the worst as she turned to face the general vicinity that the rustling had come from. Her eyes widened when, instead of coming face to face with a walker, she saw Daryl Dixon.

Was it really him? How the hell could he have been this close to the camp all this time? Why hadn’t he and Merle gone further away than this?

“D-Daryl?”

His name fell from her lips in a small whimper. It had been so many years since she’d last really seen him, but he was still so much that beautiful little boy that she’d fallen in love with. His hair had darkened a little and it was styled much differently than it had been back when they’d been kids. His muscles were more toned now, but they’d always been defined.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" She spoke again, biting down on her bottom lip as she looked up at the eyes she hadn't seen in so long, it almost seemed like a dream.

Instead of the word she longed for, Daryl only answered in silence, blinking once before he took a few steps back.

It was obvious to her that he wasn't the same boy she'd known as a child. Even then, he'd had his oddities. He'd been a little reserved; maybe a little too rough around the edges for her preferences back then. But now? Well, now he was something else entirely. He was a different man altogether.

This Daryl was colder; a little more harsh. And the painful thing was that she knew this world had done that to him. Had he lost his brother, Merle? Perhaps lost a girlfriend or friends? It seemed that everyone had lost someone these days.

"It can't be you," he finally whispered the words his back to her as he started walking away. "You're gone."

Mercy bit her bottom lip as he stopped in his tracks a few short feet away from her. She knew that he was just as shocked at seeing her now; here, in this place, as she was at seeing him alive in the first place. When her parents had moved away, she had been certain that Daryl's father would kill him. Or that Daryl himself would end up in prison for murder.

"It is" she muttered. "And I'm not gone. I never left you, Daryl. Even though my parents--"

"Don't you get it, Mercy?" Daryl hissed at her. "You ain't the girl I knew, and I ain't the little boy you knew back then. Things have changed and I've...I've got my people, and you've got yours. Stick with them."

Daryl didn't say another word to her as he started walking away from her. Mercy bit her bottom lip, knowing that she should try to reach out to him. He was wrong about everything. He was wrong about her being different; about her having people. The truth was, Mercy had no one. It was true that she was part of a group, but they weren’t her group. Her group had been her, Derek, and Annie. Now they were gone. The new people, they weren’t her group. They were strangers; people she didn’t trust.

She had no one but herself, and she knew that if he left her here, she was going to die.

"Daryl, please" she whispered. "I have nobody."

He stopped again and turned his head so that he could look at her from over his shoulder before he shook his head. It was clear that he didn't believe her. Everyone in this world had to have someone; even he had always had somebody. She couldn't be alone. She wouldn't have made it this far. The walkers weren't strong if it was just one of them, maybe two at the most. And Daryl had every confidence in her ability to keep herself safe.

But alone? One girl couldn't survive in a world this harsh and painful alone. And yet here Mercy was, standing in front of him alive with breath in her and decent clothes on her back. She had to have someone.

"You're lyin'. Ain’t nobody able to survive without somebody."

He didn't give her a chance to say another word as he walked towards the bike he'd parked on the side of the road when he'd come to save her ass from the pack. He didn't turn to say goodbye; didn't even look at her face as he stomped on the gas and sped off towards the other end of the highway, once again leaving Mercy in the dust.

This time, Mercy allowed tears to form in her eyes. She hadn't let them when she'd left him earlier because she'd been the one at fault back then. But now?

Well now, he was the one leaving her and she couldn't do a damn thing about it.