Skin Deep

We found a lone house next to the highway and decided to camp there for the night. It was about half an hour’s drive from another tiny town that we had found, but there were too many Biters hanging around there for us to stop. While it was still light, Merle went out to look for something to light a fire with to heat up some of the canned food, leaving Daryl and I alone in the lounge to rest with our injuries.

“You got the cigarettes, right?” he asked not long after Merle had slammed the door.

“Yeah. They’re in the inside pocket of my blue bag with the lighters,” I answered with a nod towards my backpack. I couldn’t be bothered getting up. I had to lug so many heavy bags inside on behalf of Daryl and my ankle was throbbing. He shuffled across the room and bent down, searching through my full bag before he leant back up.

“Who are they?” he wondered softly, holding up my treasured photograph that I stored in a smaller inner pocket in my bag. My stomach sank when I saw their faces. Did I dare speak about them? I hadn’t shared their entire memory with anyone since the world went to shit…

“You really want to know?” I mumbled, hoping he’d say forget about it. Daryl walked back and took a seat on the couch next to me instead of the armchair he was in before. Silently he held out a smoke and I took it, taking the lighter once his was lit. We inhaled a couple of times and then he passed the photo across to me, clearly still wanting to know who they were.

“I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours,” Daryl suggested softly. I ran my thumb down the side of the photo as tears welled in my eyes, sensing that I could trust him enough and open up.

“I was married. I caught the eye of one of the businessmen who worked in the same building as me, and a year later we tied the knot. We had a boy, Sammy. He’s two in this picture,” I explained as I stared at my son’s round face. Both of my loved ones wore huge smiles as they posed for the camera at Christmas.

“What happened to them?” he asked when I hadn’t spoken for a while. I was smoking and lost in the sweet memory, remembering how I had felt like my life had only just begun. In reality, it was all about to come crashing down.

“I was out getting groceries, like I did every Saturday. I came back and… He was bit, probably by the neighbour or something. He…” My breath had hitched in my throat, making me unable to speak until I gulped. “I walked in on him eating Sammy…”

“Oh shit…” Daryl breathed with pain.

“I thought he had become insane, so I grabbed a kitchen knife to stab him. I got him in the gut, but he didn’t react like any normal human being should have. It just didn’t faze him… He came back at me and I pleaded for him to stop. The only thing that killed him was putting the knife in his head,” I finished, trying to shake the thought from my head as I took another breath of smoke. I didn’t think of it very much anymore, but whenever I did, the piercing yellow undead eyes of my husband stood out and haunted my thoughts.

“I’m so sorry, Jo,” Daryl mumbled. He was the first survivor to sound genuine about my loss. All the others had seemingly shrugged it off because they had lost their loved ones tragically too.

“I wish they were here, but… Hell, a toddler can’t survive in a world like this… They probably would have both died in worse ways later on anyway,” I shrugged, setting down the photo on the armrest next to me. It was sad but true. My husband had never been very physically strong so I doubted that he would have been able to survive the initial wave of Biters.

“I had a son too,” Daryl started. I diverted my attention to him and saw that his usually hard expression had been broken by sadness. “And a daughter.”

“And a wife?” I questioned. Daryl held his cigarette to his lips for a long time before he spoke again.

“She was the most beautiful woman in the town. I was lucky to have her,” he commented as he looked down. “You remember how I said I hunted for a living?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s where I was the day it all happened. I completely missed it. Just came back from the forest with my kill to see her eating our daughter…” he trailed off. We both took a long drag from our cigarettes, and I pondered how strange it was that we had both seem a similar sight. Perhaps that was why I hadn’t seen a living child for over a year.

“What about your son? Did he last longer?” I asked as gently as I could. Daryl sighed and ran a hand across his forehead.

“He would’ve. He was a strong kid, and only ten years old,” he replied. My heart sank, knowing that Merle was truly all that Daryl had left. “I found him on the couch, barely conscious. He kept on repeating ‘Mama bit me’ and ‘my head hurts’. I had no idea what the fuck was going on.” A tear trickled down his cheek, making me aware of how vulnerable Daryl was right now. He was soft on the inside after all.

“What did you do?”

“I put arrows in my wife. Like you, I soon worked out to go for the head. Then my boy died in my arms. He came back as a monster and I did what I had to do. Merle came ‘round, told me what he’d saw on the news. He picked me up off the floor and got me outta there. We’ve been on the run ever since,” Daryl ended with a sigh.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I said truthfully. Losing two children must be twice the amount of pain I felt for Sammy, especially since they were older.

“Merle never shares his emotions, so I’m glad that I can finally talk about it to someone,” Daryl admitted, keeping his unfocused eyes lowered.

“Me too.” Feeling hurt and knowing that he too was mourning, I put my arm across his shoulder and pulled him into a side hug. The touch was comforting for me, and he didn’t pull away so I assumed that he found it beneficial too. I silently wept for my loss against his shoulder, and occasionally I saw tears fall from Daryl’s eyes too. He was revealing a softer side, and it was reassuring to me. Daryl wasn’t as tough as he appeared.