Be Good

"Keep runnin', Beth!" Daryl shouted, voice hoarse and cracking as we ran breathlessly through the woods, aimlessly... Not to escape the walkers, but to escape the memories... The prison sent up billows of charcoal grey smoke, the air thick with it, my eyes stung and chest heaved, but still... We kept runnin'.

My mind ran back to the standby thought at every possible opportunity.

Daddy...

I'd never experienced this kind of anger, still, I restrained it. The same way I restrained my tears until things were calm enough to grieve. I watched, safe and sound behind those walls, looking at my father, on the other side of those safe fences... Have his head chopped off... With a sword.

Agony tore at my chest, and I wince again, trying to concentrate on not hitting any of the low branches as I dashed deeper into the woods, Daryl hot on my trail. Our footfalls heavy and desperate... Desperate to get away from there.

I was scared. No, scared didn't cover it. I was terrified. I couldn't tell Daryl that; he wouldn't understand. He'd probably just grunt impatiently and tell me to get over it, his expression said as much.

An arm latched onto mine, bony, grey fingers stretching towards my face wildly while I shoved against the body of a walker, fumbling for my gun.

"Duck!" Daryl ordered, breaths heavy as he threw his crossbow down to reload, lifting it and blasting a bolt through the right temple of it's head. Blackish blood squirted out the other side, splattering the birch tree behind it. Daryl caught his bolt before the walker had even completely folded onto the ground.

"Crap..." he muttered in deep thought, we stood back to back, circling. "They're closin' in now, attracted to all that damn noise the Gov made."

"What do we do?" I asked desperately, my hands slick, trying to grip the handgun firmly between them.

"We keep runnin'," he replied, "Don't stop until I say so, ready?"

I nodded quickly.

"Run! Keep going south-west, and don't stop for shit, you hear me?!"

"Yeah!" I shouted back, already taking off into the woods again.

The sunlight splintered down in broad rays, sweat dripped down my forehead, my boot soles slick, and I feared tripping, and getting us surrounded.

Once again, I was faced with a familiar feeling; the feeling that no matter where you go, where you hide and who you're with, you're not safe. That thought fueled me with more adrenaline, and I pushed faster, my lungs burning.

My eyes kept watering, a mixture of smoke and emotions, I kept wiping them, to keep them from becoming blurry. It'd be hard to watch for twisted roots and other obstacles with blurry eyes. Daryl's breath was heavy as mine, I risked a quick glance over my shoulder.

"Daryl! Behind you!"

He stumbled his last few steps, dropping his crossbow and fumbling for his hunting knife. Three more closed ranks from all sides, I looked around in panic.

"Daryl!" I called hysterically, "There's more comin'."

"I know!" he shouted back in frustration, charging towards the closest walker and stabbing in through the eye, I spun around in time to pull the trigger in surprise, the walker that had been reaching towards me blown backwards in a mess of decaying flesh and fluids.

I hurried to reload, my last magazine. Daryl was busy knifing them as fast as he could, but he couldn't do it all on his own. I fired three more shots, watching Daryl's back and my own, as seven more stumbled into the clearing with the brilliance of a groundhog seeing it's shadow.
"Beth!" Daryl called out roughly, spinning to shove a walker in overalls and a denim jacket backwards over a root, stomping it's head with the heel of his workboot.

I whirled around to face a straggling walker, arms limp at it's sides, a filthy, yellowed with age wedding dress dragging through the mud and grass, carelessly stumbling forward. I fired and knicked her ear, but it slowed her down. It fumbled for a moment, as though trying to comprehend what had happened, then began to stumble forwards again, this time, a bolt with neon feathers whizzed past my right temple and pierced her forehead, she dropped with a low thud into the thick grass.

"Think that's all'a them." Daryl whispered breathlessly, sweat rolling down his forehead.

"Daryl- sit down, you keep at this and you're going to pass out." I say quietly, my voice full of concern as I reach for his arm to pull him into the shadows of a tree. He yanked his arm away sharply.

"W'ain't got no time for breaks."

"What are we doing then?" I demanded bravely.

He glared at me, he chest rising and falling rapidly, the sun above making strands of his sweat soaked dark brown hair shimmer silver.

"We're going to find somewhere safe. An old shack'er somethin. We're going to set up a camp and-"

"What about the others?" I demand in breathless confusion.

He gives me a long, hard look. His expression guarded, the way someone looks when they're trying to guess if you're joking. I was not.

"Beth- If they're alive, any of them, we aren't going to find them continuing to run aimlessly through the woods."

"That was your plan five minutes ago!" I shout angrily.

He doesn't respond, just grunts something under his breath, yanks his crossbow off the ground impatiently, pausing to reload, snag the arrow from the skull of the dropped bride, and turns away.

I swear I see him shake... A small quiver of his shoulders, or maybe it's the sun playing tricks on me. He continues to trek off through the branches, following his instinct trail to safety. He does this, without so much as a glance in my direction. He's made it clear since we left... Ran from the prison, that he couldn't care less if I followed him.

I sighed heavily, recognizing the dark aura, the wall he put back up between us, because it was the same one he put up between himself and everyone else. I wasn't sure if he did it defensively or because he was scared, but he wouldn't let anyone get close to him, it'd been that way since I met him a year ago... When he showed up on my Daddy's white wrap around porch, carrying that crossbow and demanding medical attention for Glenn...

Glenn. The man who would do anything for my sister, Maggie. I could just see it in how he acted around her. Glenn... The man I might never see again. The thought makes me frown.

Positive thoughts, I remember, keep those positive thoughts flowing and we'll be good.

Daryl kept walking, and the sun passed overhead and eventually began to set. About twenty minutes after sundown, we emerged on a highway, lined thickly with trees capped with kudzu vines, ferns and thick grass.

I wiped at the sweat and dirt that coated my cheeks and forehead in a thick film, like makeup. I followed Daryl carefully. I was too scared to go off on my own, and too worried, deep inside of me, that he was the last living member of my family. My group... If I let him go to go my own way, there was that chance that I'd never see him again.

"Crap..." Daryl sighed a few yards ahead of me, thunder crackled above, and the first drops began to fall. He stood atop the neck hill, on the cracked asphalt.

"What?" I called, reaching the top at that moment, my breath hitching in my throat. It wasn't the site I expected, or wanted to see... Walkers. A large herd of them moving slowly, aimlessly through the rain that was picking up.

"Come on," Daryl tugged my elbow to break my trance, I tore my eyes away from the herd we'd never be able to take down on our own, silently praying he had an idea.

We backtracked twelve yards, he worked on the rusty trunk handle on a car alongside the road, surrounded by articles of foreign clothing and items, relics from someone else's life.

"Get in." he commanded in a low, careful voice, throwing glances over his shoulder ever few moments, I leaned over the trunk, it was dark and not very spacious.

"Are we going to fit?" I wondered.

"Got a better idea?" he grunted in reply, climbing in ahead of me, propping the door open, "Get your ass in here, before they see ya."

I took a deep breath and climbed over the threshold into the trunk. Daryl pulled the hood down, not shutting it completely, but tying it shut with the red bandanna he always kept in his back pocket.

He leaned forward in the very limited space, squinting out the crack in the trunk.

"Stay very quiet, and do. Not. Move." he whispered quietly.

I nod, leaning back in the crawlspace sized cavity. Warding off the feelings of suggested claustrophobia, while I concentrated on the flashes of bodies passing the car in the flickers of lightening, my knife gripped tightly in my left hand, gun tightly in my right.

They did not move or relax once during the night. I held my breath for a minute at a time, then quietly drew in a deep breath and counted in my head.

One, two, three, four...

"Daryl..." I whispered quietly, when the lightening flashes of light gradually became a solid beam splintering through the gap between the trunk door and lock. I shook his shoulder and resisted the laugh that bubbled to my lips when he jerked awake in confusion, slowly taking in the situation, my heart thudded sadly when I noticed his confusion melt into an undescribable mask, that basically whispered... It was real... Damn.

I took a deep, quiet breath while he sat up at much as he could to squint through the crack.
"Looks clear." he announced slowly, reaching for his knife on his belt loop. "Keep that thing ready n'case there's any stragglers."

I nod in agreement, already ready for the attack.

He unties the bandanna, pulling it back through the lock, gripping it in his other hand, knife in the other, he counts to three under his breath and shoves up the trunk door, we're both momentarily blinded by the morning sun, the hazy light beating down through the thin clouds above.

"Damn..." Daryl whispers, I look around us, the road is empty, which is a relief, but in the dirt around the car we'd spent the night in, were dozens of footprints, milling aimlessly around the vehicle.
Daryl climbed out first, checking out the surrounding woods and under the car for stragglers, then calls out to me "Collect anything we can use sin'this."

A white trashbag sails through the air in a tangled wad.

"Okay." I reply quietly, watching him stalk up the road a ways before turning to carefully gather items from previous owners and parts that had fallen off the car. It rattled in the bag as I tied it shut and threw it over my shoulder, rushing to catch up with Daryl, where he stood a top the same hill as last night.

He points further down. "We'll follow this road for a'while." he rubs his nose, the way he does when he's in deep thought, "See if we can come across somewhere fer camp."

I sigh silently. "Wouldn't it be better to keep movin'?" I wondered, but Daryl had already set off with mild determination for his plan. I looked at his face tentatively.

"If we keep moving... We'd have a better chance of comin' across one of them." I explain quietly.
His lip twitched and he glances over at me, but says nothing. His eyes remain dark and unreadable.
"Let's set up camp t'night, see how things look tomorrow." he sighed, unhappy with the decision. I frown, but I don't say anything else, he's already set on some mental path that we'll be taking.



I sat near the campfire, staring without seeing into the flickering flames. I didn't see the peaceful glow or feel the warmth on my skin, I saw the prison towers, flames rolling up their sides, a tank blowing holes through the large glass window in cell block C. I could taste the bitter, dusty flavor of smoke on my tongue, and breathing it was giving me a sore throat.

I began to wonder what happened to Maggie...

"Beth, get these people on the bus! I'm going to find Glenn."

"I'm coming with you!"

"No!" she grabbed my shoulders, and looked me firmly in the eyes. Both of ours watering, her voice cracked.

"We've all got jobs to do, this one's yours. If I'm not back, go without me!"

"Maggie!" I cried after her as she ran back into the firefight. My stomach clenching into terrified knots, I spun around in panic.

"Everyone get on the bus!" I shouted over the metallic pang of bullets and shattering glass.

More of the remaining Woodbury residents flooded onto the prison bus, I was torn in two... I ran to the bus door, shielding my eyes from the sun and looked up at Avangila, a middle aged woman in dark green cargo jeans and a white blouse.

"I'm going to get the kids- I'll be right back!"

I pulled out my handgun and ran the way Maggie had, veering left into an alleyway between cell blocks, running towards D block, shoving the door open to stand alone in an abandoned hallway.

Articles of clothing, books and other personal items strewn across the floor, a packed suitcase by the door, but no one guarding it.

"Molly?! Luke, are you in here?" I shouted, running up the metal steps to the upper level.

I ran by every cell, calling out their names, they were nowhere to be seen.

I paused and pushed my hair back and took a deep breath. "Keep it together..." I whispered. "Where would they go in an emergency... Children need safety; Death Rowe. That's where they'd go! They'd know there are adults there."

I took off running again, leaving the door to the cell block wide open behind me.

"Beth- Duck!" someone shouted behind me in the fog of dust, the results of pulverized brick and concrete.

I dropped onto the cold grey concrete of the basketball court. The deafening bang sounded above me, and a shower of glass shards poured down around me.

"Come on." that voice said, closer this time. They grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet, and we were running, then diving behind a group of oil drums, I turned in panic to see Daryl drop down beside me.

"You hurt?"

"No!" I shout hoarsely over another boom. I ducked further behind the cover.

"Then move!" he pushed me up and were running again, bullets pegging the concrete under out feet as we sprinted for the corner of the main building. Daryl shoved me behind it as a lone grenade rolled down the alley.

"Catch your breath-"

I was already gone, running again, towards Death Rowe.

"BETH!" he shouted after me, I stumbled and paused long enough to face him. "I have to get the kids!"

I didn't wait for a reply, and took off again. My heart thudding loudly in my chest, lungs aching for a breath I couldn't give. I kept pushing my legs forward.

I finally stood before the Death Rowe door, bracing my feet and planting my palms on the side, I pushed with all my strength to get the gap wide enough to squeeze through. I darted down the steps like a shot, arriving into the waiting room area, which now featured a broken window and an iron door with an ax head wedged in the lock.

I hoisted myself over the ledge and through the broken window, glass splintering under the soles of my boots.

"Lizzie, Mika?" I called, but the further I ventured in, the more obvious it became that everyone vacated, except for three walkers, who stretched their arms from behind the bars of their cells. I looked into the faces... Of the now dead people, people I knew and cared for. I scrubbed at the tears that were forming and reminded myself to concentrate. They may have gone for the bus on their own.

Another shot shook the building, and a few chunks of plaster fell from the ceiling and shattered on the concret floor. I darted for the exit and ran out, lifting my gun and getting ready to fire my way back to the prison bus.

The firefight was already winding down, less people, and more walkers. I paused, horror stricken as the herd emerging from the forest trampled the fences. Those safe fences that brought us protection and peace of mind, were now crushed into the grass and mud.

I forced myself to move, to keep moving...

I ran past the gardens, the gardens Daddy built and cared for with Rick and Carl, past the chalk drawings on the sides of the cell blocks, drawn by the children who could possibly be dead... Someone else's slideshow.

I banished the negative thoughts and focused on the goal, running across the basketball court, noticing Daryl through the fog of settling dust, roll a grenade down the muzzle of the massive tank that had single-handedly destroyed our home, and the shout of someone inside.

"GRENADE!"

The man with the army crew-cut climbed out of the tank, rolling to his feet and running for cover. I'd seen him stand alongside the Governor... I'd seen him kill my father without so much as a wince.
"No, please..." The man put on his best innocent expression, holding up his fingerless gloved hands in defense, Daryl held up his crossbow with a vicious glare on his face. Once that glare was in place, there was no going back.

He pulled the trigger and dropped the Governor's goon, and turned as I ran towards him breathlessly.

"I was tryna find the kids," I explained with tears forming in my eyes, spinning around, hoping to notice one of them running for safety. But there was no one there... At all.

The prison bus was gone. The intruders all dead, and walkers overtaking the prison. Reclaiming it... It was just me and Daryl.

I saw the flicker of pain in his blue eyes as he turned away from the tragic scene, tugging my elbow. "I'm sorry Beth, we gotta go..."

We ran, avoiding obstacles, towards the northern fence, ducking through a pre-made hole in the wire, I kept going, so tempted to look back. Daryl must have sensed it, because without looking back at me, he barely muttered "Don't look back, Beth..."

Deeper into the woods, he led me, until I had no sense of direction or time. The contant flutter of bird wings in the canopy above, the still life around us, like running through someone else's memories, away from our own.