Hope Is a Waking Dream
Chapter 24
Chapter 24
Merle was getting tired, it was only late afternoon, but he was sick of being in that truck. That little bitch Martinez was behind him; he knew that for sure now. He knew the Governor had sent the man to follow him, either to make sure he returned to Woodbury with his brother, or to kill him. He needed to take care of this situation before he found Daryl; he would not risk the life of his baby brother for Martinez' jealousy or the Governor's sick plans. He soon saw his beacon in the form of a chimney in the distance and made a detour through the tree line. He knew that spic would follow him and he would be able to take care of him there. He was sure that chimney was attached to a cabin and there would be ample space to resolve whatever problems there were between them.
As he approached the cabin he saw two full size trucks parked outside. The tire tracks he had found out on the road were a perfect match to the wheelbase of both vehicles. He also saw something very familiar setting in the bed of one of those trucks. Merle didn't know what made him happier, knowing he had caught up with his baby brother or laying his eyes on his beautiful Triumph for the first time in months. His smile could've made a blind man cry. He exited his own truck and looked around, there was no sign of Daryl anywhere. He walked up onto the porch and peered inside through the wooden slats on the window. There wasn't anyone inside that he could see, but there were a couple packs and some plastic bags lying around. He walked back to the truck that was holding his motorcycle and climbed onto the bed to fondle the handlebars.
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Daryl wanted to do a little hunting before they hit the road; they were out of meat, and they would need to keep up their strength if they were going to find the rest of the group. He had been gone for almost an hour when Melissa decided to get a few jars of shine to take with them and went back to the shed. She didn't know how much Daryl wanted to bring, so she ended up carrying three small crates into the cabin. She sat them by the door and decided that she wanted a smoke, so she picked up a pack and walked toward the front door. As she passed the boarded up window, she heard something outside and grabbed a knife and her gun. Looking through the slats, she saw a living man in the bed of her truck untying Daryl's bike. Quietly, she turned the broken knob of the cabin door, holding her gun ready, with the knife in the sheath on her hip. Whoever the hell it was in her truck, he wasn't paying attention to shit, or so she thought. The door creaked a little as she opened it and approached the vehicle. The man had his back to her, and she easily snuck up on him and held her weapon in his direction. "Get your hands off the bike and your ass off my truck or I will shoot you in the head and follow it up with a knife between the eyes for good measure."
Merle heard the door and floorboards creak as someone walked out of the cabin. He knew it wasn't his brother; Daryl wouldn't have tried to conceal his presence. Whoever it was, and he was pretty sure he knew who it was, tried their best to approach with stealth. He allowed this person to approach him from behind; he had anticipated a problem could arise when he finally found his brother, especially know knowing that he had a traveling companion, and attached his machete to his stump. No one could sneak up on Merle Dixon, unless he let them. The one armed man released his grip on the motorcycle when he was told slowly turned around, holding his hands up in surrender. "Woah there missy. You better put that thing away before you shoot yourself in the foot."
"I told you to get out of my truck dumbass. That bike does not belong to you and if you think I'm gonna let you take it, you're more retarded than you look. I will shoot you in the head before you can take your next breath motherfucker, now move." Merle stepped down from the truck bed slowly, and walked confidently to stand directly in front of Melissa.
"Little lady, you have no idea who you're fucking with. That there is my bike, and I'm taking it back. If this were the good old days, you'd be on your way to the slammer for grand theft, however, the good old days are gone. There's no law no more, and I'm prepared to take it into my own hands if need be." He lifted his machete arm in an attempt to intimidate her, but she didn't back down.
Melissa wasn't afraid of this man; she wasn't going to let him take the motorcycle, no matter who he claimed to be. "I'm not telling you again, get the fuck out of here before he comes back. I will not be responsible for what he does if he sees you near his bike." Merle gave her his big, charming, Dixon smile and moved faster than he had since he stopped running from the law. He circled around her, taking the gun from her hand and pulling her arms behind her.
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Daryl was pissed as fuck; he hadn't been able to hit a damn thing; seemed like all his shots were a half a second off, barely missing every squirrel he'd aimed at. His mind was occupied with his missing family, those who had been taken, and those still at the cabin. After an hour, he decided to call it a day and head back to Melissa. As he got closer to the cabin, he heard loud, angry voices, one of which he identified as Melissa's. The other voice was harder to recognize because he hadn't heard it for so long, but once he did, he held his crossbow up, ready to strike. "Get your fucking hands off her Merle, or I will shoot a bolt through your feeble brain."
"Well now baby brother, I only got one hand thanks to your boy Rick, so how 'bout you put down your bow, take MY bike outta that bed, get your shit and we can leave."
"I told you to take you're fucking hands off her Merle. I ain't doing shit until you do." Daryl took a cautious step toward his brother and Melissa, never taking his eyes off her. She didn't look scared; she looked furious. He knew the minute Merle let go of her, she would cut him; he had to keep them from killing each other.
"Boy, you know better than to talk to me like that. I'll cut her throat faster than you can blink, unless you want to beg me darlin'; Merle loves to hear a woman beg." The wind whooshed as Daryl's bolt passed less than an inch from his brother's head and embedded itself in the tree behind him. Merle immediately let go of Melissa, and Daryl rushed to her, having to hold her back from slicing the other man's throat with her knife.
"He's my brother, Melissa. He won't hurt you." Daryl whispered in her ear, only half believing his own words. "Go inside, I need to talk to Merle for a minute." She didn't want to leave the two men alone. There was something bout Merle she didn't trust, other than the obvious, of course, that made her worry for their safety. She ignored her gut and reluctantly left to go back into the cabin.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing Daryl? You could have fucking hit me with that thing! You pissed off I'm not dead, so you gonna try to take me out!" Merle was furious that his brother had shot a bolt at his head and stomped toward him; when he was close enough he landed a punch directly to his brother's face.
"Fuck you Merle! If I'd a wanted to put that bolt in your brain, you'd be dead right now! You weren't listening to me, I told you to let her go! That's what you get for not doing it!"
"Don't you talk to me like that boy. That bitch of yours wouldn't give me my bike. That's MY bike, she's not gonna keep me from it."
"She was protecting your bike dumbass; she didn't know who you were. I told her the bike belonged to my brother; how the fuck was she supposed to know what you look like? And if you call her a bitch one more time, I will shoot you in the balls."
"Well, well baby brother. You as protective of her as she is of my bike, huh?" He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "I guess that explains this." He handed the paper to Daryl, who unfolded it.
"Where did you get this?" Daryl asked. He regarded the picture thoughtfully, remembering when it was taken.
"Along the side of the road; saw some tire tracks and stopped to check 'em out, and noticed what looked like a camp site along the tree line. I found that on the ground; been looking for you for a while now little brother, even though you never came looking for me."
"We went back to Atlanta to get you! All you had to do was stay where you were, we would have found you! But no, you cut off your goddamn hand and ran off, like a fucking coward!"
Merle was just as outraged as Daryl was with where this conversation was going. "I ain't no goddamn coward. Your buddy Rick and that nigger made sure I wasn't gonna make it off that roof. They hated me, they left me to die. Those two cocksuckers separated us; they left you alone without me to look after you and protect you. I lost my hand because of them."
"You lost your hand because you're a simple minded piece of shit! You made the choice to get high; that put everyone in danger! You didn't give a goddamn about any of those people; Andrea, Glenn, T-Dog, none of them! You only ever cared for yourself Merle, you never gave a shit about anybody, not even me! You never looked out for me or protected me! I was always on my own, you lit out the first chance you got, left me with him!" Daryl turned his back to his brother and started to walk away when Merle grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him back, ripping his shirt. He gasped loudly when he saw his brother's skin. He hadn't known what their father did to Daryl, he hadn't been around for any of that. Merle had wasted those years getting drunk, getting high, and generally not being in the vicinity of his baby brother, leaving Daryl to bear the brunt of their father's hatred and anger alone.
"I . . . I didn't know. I thought it was just me; I didn't think he would hurt you. He hated me 'cause I was just like him and wouldn't take his shit. If I'd have stayed, I would have killed him. I never thought he would take it out on you," Merle said, hanging his head.
"Bullshit Merle! He took it out on Ma and she was nothing like him! He didn't have anyone to take his shit out on after you left. You never came back, never; not until he was dead. You only gave a shit about getting high and getting laid; don't think I'm gonna believe that you give a flying fuck about me now." Daryl jerked away from his brother and marched back into the cabin.
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Michonne finally took Andrea's advice and explored Woodbury; although not the parts Andrea would have suggested. She walked down every alley and behind every building trying to find the Governor's secret. Eventually, she hoped to make her way back to his apartment; knowing he would keep the most dangerous secrets close to him. On the south end of the wall, behind a large warehouse, she heard growling. Looking around she saw no one, not even a guard, and drew her katana. Silently, she crept up to an unlocked dock door and walked though; the room was enveloped in darkness, and the moaning and growling seemed louder and closer. Feeling around in the dark, her hands landed on cold, iron bars. Michonne made her way down the hall to another unlocked door with light seeping in around it. A longer hallway lay behind that door, and holding the katana high, she continued on.
The end of that hall held more iron cages, like prison cells, and she recognized the sounds and smells the occupants were emitting. Two cells held at eight walkers, and they smelled her coming the moment she had come through the door; they were riled up and hungry. She stood against the opposite wall and observed them; their worthless arms poking through the bars, reaching for her. She wondered why they were there, what the Governor's plan was that involved them. After a few moments contemplating her discovery, she made a decision; whatever the Governor had planned she could not let it happen. Unlocking the cells, she stepped back, allowing the walkers to escape their cage; she cut them all down, taking each of their heads, one at a time. When the floor was covered with twice dead corpses, Michonne re-sheathed her sword and exited the nearest door.
Merle was getting tired, it was only late afternoon, but he was sick of being in that truck. That little bitch Martinez was behind him; he knew that for sure now. He knew the Governor had sent the man to follow him, either to make sure he returned to Woodbury with his brother, or to kill him. He needed to take care of this situation before he found Daryl; he would not risk the life of his baby brother for Martinez' jealousy or the Governor's sick plans. He soon saw his beacon in the form of a chimney in the distance and made a detour through the tree line. He knew that spic would follow him and he would be able to take care of him there. He was sure that chimney was attached to a cabin and there would be ample space to resolve whatever problems there were between them.
As he approached the cabin he saw two full size trucks parked outside. The tire tracks he had found out on the road were a perfect match to the wheelbase of both vehicles. He also saw something very familiar setting in the bed of one of those trucks. Merle didn't know what made him happier, knowing he had caught up with his baby brother or laying his eyes on his beautiful Triumph for the first time in months. His smile could've made a blind man cry. He exited his own truck and looked around, there was no sign of Daryl anywhere. He walked up onto the porch and peered inside through the wooden slats on the window. There wasn't anyone inside that he could see, but there were a couple packs and some plastic bags lying around. He walked back to the truck that was holding his motorcycle and climbed onto the bed to fondle the handlebars.
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Daryl wanted to do a little hunting before they hit the road; they were out of meat, and they would need to keep up their strength if they were going to find the rest of the group. He had been gone for almost an hour when Melissa decided to get a few jars of shine to take with them and went back to the shed. She didn't know how much Daryl wanted to bring, so she ended up carrying three small crates into the cabin. She sat them by the door and decided that she wanted a smoke, so she picked up a pack and walked toward the front door. As she passed the boarded up window, she heard something outside and grabbed a knife and her gun. Looking through the slats, she saw a living man in the bed of her truck untying Daryl's bike. Quietly, she turned the broken knob of the cabin door, holding her gun ready, with the knife in the sheath on her hip. Whoever the hell it was in her truck, he wasn't paying attention to shit, or so she thought. The door creaked a little as she opened it and approached the vehicle. The man had his back to her, and she easily snuck up on him and held her weapon in his direction. "Get your hands off the bike and your ass off my truck or I will shoot you in the head and follow it up with a knife between the eyes for good measure."
Merle heard the door and floorboards creak as someone walked out of the cabin. He knew it wasn't his brother; Daryl wouldn't have tried to conceal his presence. Whoever it was, and he was pretty sure he knew who it was, tried their best to approach with stealth. He allowed this person to approach him from behind; he had anticipated a problem could arise when he finally found his brother, especially know knowing that he had a traveling companion, and attached his machete to his stump. No one could sneak up on Merle Dixon, unless he let them. The one armed man released his grip on the motorcycle when he was told slowly turned around, holding his hands up in surrender. "Woah there missy. You better put that thing away before you shoot yourself in the foot."
"I told you to get out of my truck dumbass. That bike does not belong to you and if you think I'm gonna let you take it, you're more retarded than you look. I will shoot you in the head before you can take your next breath motherfucker, now move." Merle stepped down from the truck bed slowly, and walked confidently to stand directly in front of Melissa.
"Little lady, you have no idea who you're fucking with. That there is my bike, and I'm taking it back. If this were the good old days, you'd be on your way to the slammer for grand theft, however, the good old days are gone. There's no law no more, and I'm prepared to take it into my own hands if need be." He lifted his machete arm in an attempt to intimidate her, but she didn't back down.
Melissa wasn't afraid of this man; she wasn't going to let him take the motorcycle, no matter who he claimed to be. "I'm not telling you again, get the fuck out of here before he comes back. I will not be responsible for what he does if he sees you near his bike." Merle gave her his big, charming, Dixon smile and moved faster than he had since he stopped running from the law. He circled around her, taking the gun from her hand and pulling her arms behind her.
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Daryl was pissed as fuck; he hadn't been able to hit a damn thing; seemed like all his shots were a half a second off, barely missing every squirrel he'd aimed at. His mind was occupied with his missing family, those who had been taken, and those still at the cabin. After an hour, he decided to call it a day and head back to Melissa. As he got closer to the cabin, he heard loud, angry voices, one of which he identified as Melissa's. The other voice was harder to recognize because he hadn't heard it for so long, but once he did, he held his crossbow up, ready to strike. "Get your fucking hands off her Merle, or I will shoot a bolt through your feeble brain."
"Well now baby brother, I only got one hand thanks to your boy Rick, so how 'bout you put down your bow, take MY bike outta that bed, get your shit and we can leave."
"I told you to take you're fucking hands off her Merle. I ain't doing shit until you do." Daryl took a cautious step toward his brother and Melissa, never taking his eyes off her. She didn't look scared; she looked furious. He knew the minute Merle let go of her, she would cut him; he had to keep them from killing each other.
"Boy, you know better than to talk to me like that. I'll cut her throat faster than you can blink, unless you want to beg me darlin'; Merle loves to hear a woman beg." The wind whooshed as Daryl's bolt passed less than an inch from his brother's head and embedded itself in the tree behind him. Merle immediately let go of Melissa, and Daryl rushed to her, having to hold her back from slicing the other man's throat with her knife.
"He's my brother, Melissa. He won't hurt you." Daryl whispered in her ear, only half believing his own words. "Go inside, I need to talk to Merle for a minute." She didn't want to leave the two men alone. There was something bout Merle she didn't trust, other than the obvious, of course, that made her worry for their safety. She ignored her gut and reluctantly left to go back into the cabin.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing Daryl? You could have fucking hit me with that thing! You pissed off I'm not dead, so you gonna try to take me out!" Merle was furious that his brother had shot a bolt at his head and stomped toward him; when he was close enough he landed a punch directly to his brother's face.
"Fuck you Merle! If I'd a wanted to put that bolt in your brain, you'd be dead right now! You weren't listening to me, I told you to let her go! That's what you get for not doing it!"
"Don't you talk to me like that boy. That bitch of yours wouldn't give me my bike. That's MY bike, she's not gonna keep me from it."
"She was protecting your bike dumbass; she didn't know who you were. I told her the bike belonged to my brother; how the fuck was she supposed to know what you look like? And if you call her a bitch one more time, I will shoot you in the balls."
"Well, well baby brother. You as protective of her as she is of my bike, huh?" He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "I guess that explains this." He handed the paper to Daryl, who unfolded it.
"Where did you get this?" Daryl asked. He regarded the picture thoughtfully, remembering when it was taken.
"Along the side of the road; saw some tire tracks and stopped to check 'em out, and noticed what looked like a camp site along the tree line. I found that on the ground; been looking for you for a while now little brother, even though you never came looking for me."
"We went back to Atlanta to get you! All you had to do was stay where you were, we would have found you! But no, you cut off your goddamn hand and ran off, like a fucking coward!"
Merle was just as outraged as Daryl was with where this conversation was going. "I ain't no goddamn coward. Your buddy Rick and that nigger made sure I wasn't gonna make it off that roof. They hated me, they left me to die. Those two cocksuckers separated us; they left you alone without me to look after you and protect you. I lost my hand because of them."
"You lost your hand because you're a simple minded piece of shit! You made the choice to get high; that put everyone in danger! You didn't give a goddamn about any of those people; Andrea, Glenn, T-Dog, none of them! You only ever cared for yourself Merle, you never gave a shit about anybody, not even me! You never looked out for me or protected me! I was always on my own, you lit out the first chance you got, left me with him!" Daryl turned his back to his brother and started to walk away when Merle grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him back, ripping his shirt. He gasped loudly when he saw his brother's skin. He hadn't known what their father did to Daryl, he hadn't been around for any of that. Merle had wasted those years getting drunk, getting high, and generally not being in the vicinity of his baby brother, leaving Daryl to bear the brunt of their father's hatred and anger alone.
"I . . . I didn't know. I thought it was just me; I didn't think he would hurt you. He hated me 'cause I was just like him and wouldn't take his shit. If I'd have stayed, I would have killed him. I never thought he would take it out on you," Merle said, hanging his head.
"Bullshit Merle! He took it out on Ma and she was nothing like him! He didn't have anyone to take his shit out on after you left. You never came back, never; not until he was dead. You only gave a shit about getting high and getting laid; don't think I'm gonna believe that you give a flying fuck about me now." Daryl jerked away from his brother and marched back into the cabin.
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Michonne finally took Andrea's advice and explored Woodbury; although not the parts Andrea would have suggested. She walked down every alley and behind every building trying to find the Governor's secret. Eventually, she hoped to make her way back to his apartment; knowing he would keep the most dangerous secrets close to him. On the south end of the wall, behind a large warehouse, she heard growling. Looking around she saw no one, not even a guard, and drew her katana. Silently, she crept up to an unlocked dock door and walked though; the room was enveloped in darkness, and the moaning and growling seemed louder and closer. Feeling around in the dark, her hands landed on cold, iron bars. Michonne made her way down the hall to another unlocked door with light seeping in around it. A longer hallway lay behind that door, and holding the katana high, she continued on.
The end of that hall held more iron cages, like prison cells, and she recognized the sounds and smells the occupants were emitting. Two cells held at eight walkers, and they smelled her coming the moment she had come through the door; they were riled up and hungry. She stood against the opposite wall and observed them; their worthless arms poking through the bars, reaching for her. She wondered why they were there, what the Governor's plan was that involved them. After a few moments contemplating her discovery, she made a decision; whatever the Governor had planned she could not let it happen. Unlocking the cells, she stepped back, allowing the walkers to escape their cage; she cut them all down, taking each of their heads, one at a time. When the floor was covered with twice dead corpses, Michonne re-sheathed her sword and exited the nearest door.