Skin Deep

The men decided to make camp about an hour before it got dark. We were literally in the middle of nowhere. The cracked dirt spanned right to the horizon, giving us a view of anything that was coming our way. A few tussocks littered the area and got denser to the east where a few reddish rocks stood in the distance. During the ride, the brothers had picked up some old branches, and now they were piled together and a fire was burning. Merle had impressively lit the fire using just a twig, so I hadn’t offered a matchstick from my bag. I sat on the ground watching as Daryl unpacked a couple of tins, poured them into a pot, then held it over the fire and stirred it. He left the bag of canned goods right next to him. There was no way I could steal it if he didn’t let it out of his sight.

“You want some soup, Jo?” Daryl asked. I quickly brought my eyes back up to him instead of the bag, hoping I hadn’t appeared too suspicious.

“Would love some,” I said. I smiled largely, glad that not only was I about to be fed but that I wasn’t alone anymore. He passed me one of the tin cans that the soup had come from, but now it contained steaming chicken and mushroom soup. My mouth watered at the scent that travelled upwards with the steam, and I took a large sip. It sure was good to be eating again. I realised Daryl was watching me, and I noticed the uncontrollable smile on my face from the soup. “Thank you.” I felt like it was appropriate, but he shrugged it off. As we all sipped at our hot soup slowly, I stared at the flames. I was uncertain about how I felt. The extra company made me feel a bit safer, but they were strangers and we were camping in the open; something I rarely did. But seeing another human face that wasn’t rotten… It was something I had missed.

“I like your bike,” Merle said out of the blue. My eyes flicked up to my left and I saw he was indeed looking at me, the smile on his face matching the surprising gentleness his voice had.

“My bike?” I mumbled to myself before I recalled that I was using a motorbike as transportation. They were too.

“Yeah. Is it yours or did you steal it?” Merle continued.

“I don’t think it counts as stealing if it’s taken from the undead,” I remarked. Merle raised his eyebrows in agreement before taking another gulp of his soup. I noted Daryl was just watching on in silence. “I found this one in Idaho. Don’t remember what town. My other one was about to run out of fuel, so I swapped it. I’ve just been lucky enough to find gas stations ever since.”

“You’re Canadian, aren’t you?” he asked with a smirk. I guess my accent was still obvious.

“Yeah.”

“Why are you in Nevada then?” Daryl piped up, clearly curious about me.

“Why do you think? It’s a freakin’ apocalypse,” I spat at the mention of the monsters that roamed the earth.

“Well at least you got a good girl with ya. She’s one of the best models from the 1980s,” Merle commented enthusiastically as he looked behind me at the motorbike. “I prefer the ones with ape hangers, just for the style.” I raised a questioning eyebrow. Ape hangers? What?

“I didn’t ride before the outbreak…” I said slowly. Merle paused as he looked me over again. His expression showed a mix of surprise and attraction.

“Really? You look like you would’ve,” he said with a shrug as I tried to ignore his gaze.

“Why do you ride one then? Seems like you’d be safer in a car,” Daryl wondered.

“It’s easier this way.” I didn’t feel like explaining myself to the strangers.

“Puny girl like you riding a beast like that? No way is that easier,” Merle sneered with a light chuckle. I took in a deep breath.

“Okay, well, the first thing I noticed was that a lot of cars have alarms. The last thing I want is a loud noise like that to attract all the Biters to me,” I began, seemingly having their attention. “Even if they don’t have an alarm, I still have no clue how to hotwire a car. Half the motorbikes I find still have the keys in the ignition, or on the ground close by.”

“Probably because it’s easier for the undead to sink their teeth into someone who’s on a bike,” Merle countered cockily. I knew that was a risk, but the benefits outweighed it greatly.

“Despite that, bikes are easier to manoeuvre through any sort of traffic jam I find, and the best part is that they don’t use as much fuel as cars,” I finished. I quickly put my lips against the can and had some more soup, expecting some sort of backlash from the men. Instead they were quiet for a few moments. I guess Merle had assumed I was just a fan of bikes, like he appeared to be, and wasn’t simply taking logical steps so I would be more likely to survive. Merle’s eyes finally left me and went over to his brother.

“More food?” he asked. Daryl checked the bag and pulled out three more cans.

“Could have baked beans now if we don’t want ‘em for breakfast,” he suggested. Merle nodded his agreement so Daryl turned to me.

“Sure,” I shrugged. As long as I was getting some of the food I had scavenged, I really didn’t care. Again, Daryl heated the food and divided it amongst us three. It was difficult near the end to drink the baked beans, but I managed, and once I was done I spent a while using my finger to clean up as much of the sauce that I could. It was amazing how food had once been a normal part of my life, yet now it was so scarce and treasured.

“I’ll take first watch,” Daryl said once we’d all finished eating. The sun was quickly dropping towards the horizon and the air was becoming a lot colder. Merle set up a sleeping spot on the ground with a couple of blankets, and I pulled out my sleeping bag, using a folded blanket as a pillow. I lay close enough to the fire so I could get some warmth, yet still managed to be a decent distance from the brothers. Inside my bag I had secretly slipped a dagger for just in case.

As darkness fell, Merle turned into a heap of blankets that snored. I was used to sleeping alone in absolute silence, so anything other than the sound of a fire was a potential hazard. His noises were going to be difficult to ignore. Daryl sat in the same position, occasionally poking at the fire, and the bag of food hadn’t moved either. I shifted a bit in my sleeping bag and Daryl looked across from the fire at me with an expressionless glare. He then turned to his right and picked up his crossbow, silently loading an arrow as he stood. My heart sped up. Was he going to kill me? My hand swiftly went for my concealed blade and I gripped the handle as Daryl took a few silent steps towards me.

Without a second glance at me, he raised the crossbow and stepped over my legs. After a few more steps he fired and I heard a little squeak from an animal. Frozen with panic and fear, I waited until Daryl returned to his position by the fire. In one hand he held a limp, small mammal. When he set it down I could see its face. It was wide-eyed, had such a cute shaped head with massive ears, and its fur matched the light brown colour of the desert floor. How cruel. At least whenever I hunted I only went after large and abundant animals like sheep and cows, and it was only ever for the purpose of food when I was absolutely starving.

Satisfied Daryl wasn’t going to harm me, I rolled over to avoid the stare of the dead fox. With the hope of taking my food back and leaving the two bikers the next morning, I managed to fall asleep.