21. Wolves

'you are the kindest thing,
that has ever happened to me,
even if that is not how our tale is told.'
-nikita gill

⤐

The next week was a blur. Eric came down with a cold, as Aaron had said, so they didn't plan any trips. Rick had been spending more and more time with Jessie, and Carl befriended her eldest son along with a girl around his age named Enid, so Zeppelin spent most of her time with Judith. Sitting on the porch with her, strolling down the street with the baby bouncing wildly on her hip, or simply wasting time with Veronica and Rosita in the community garden.

Having a child of her own had never crossed Zepp's mind, other than when she was young and her only thought was that if she did have one, she'd make damn sure to give them a better life than she had been given. She was happy to take care of Judith. The sweet, soft innocence was a shining light in a dark, shitty world.

Daryl mostly kept his distance but every now and then he'd share a cigarette with her on the porch, or brush against her shoulder softly as he walked past. His gaze was always on her though, burning holes into her skin and sending swirling pulses through her gut. Yet every night when dinner was over and the group started to settle down, he'd quietly slip out the back door before anyone could keep him locked into a conversation.

She began to follow him once, catching herself just at the threshold. If he wanted me out there with him, he'd tell me, she'd scolded herself, and trudged back to the living room where her nights were spent rotating the loveseat with Veronica and Rosita, fighting for a measly few hours of sleep that weren't shadowed by nightmares.

This morning started the same as any other had been. Wake up, make breakfast for Judith and force Carl to eat something before he took off for the day, then check with Maggie to see if she needed help with any tasks Deanna had given her.

She didn't, and Veronica was glued to Tara's side at the infirmary today, so with nothing to do and nobody to talk to, she sat with Judith in her lap on the window seat. Her fingers lightly flipped through the weathered pages of Little Women, though her eyes barely skimmed over the words. Before she realized it, two hours had passed and both she and the baby were dozing off listlessly in the afternoon sun.

  The sound of glass breaking in the distance caused her spine to steel, shooting her frame up straight as she clutched Judith against her chest. Screams then followed, and in a flash she was scrambling out of the living room and jumping down the porch steps two at a time.

It didn't take much effort to find the source of the noise, she only had to follow the people screaming and dashing down the street towards the conflict.

Rick was covered in blood, kneeling on the ground over the also bloody body of Pete, Jessie's husband. She sprinted over to the small crowd surrounding him, passing Judith into Maggie's awaiting hands before she shoved her way in between two pairs of broad shoulders.

  "Rick! What the hell's going on!?" She screeched, elbowing past another rib cage just as Michonne wrapped her arm in an ice cold grip. The look on her face froze Zeppelin in her steps.

"Damn it, Rick! I said stop!" Deanna shouted, her frail hands balled into fists at her sides.

"Or what?" Rick's taunt was echoed by the click of his gun, and an audible gasp sounded from someone next to her.

  "You gonna kick me out? You still don't get it," Rick cried, his chest heaving with shuddered breaths. "None of you do! We know what needs to be done," he continued, wildly waving his gun as he pointed around the group. "And we do it. We're the ones who live! You!" He directed his cries at Deanna now, still struggling to breathe as he pleaded with the people. "You just sit and plan.. hesitate."

  Michonne inched forward, and Zepp mirrored the movement.

  "You pretend like you know when you don't! You wish things weren't what they are," he drawled, tightening the grip on Pete's black and blue throat.

"Well, you wanna live? You want this place to stay standing? Then your way of doing things is done. Things don't get better just because you want them to. Starting right now, we have to live in the real world."

Sweat and blood dripped in a trail from his hairline down his nose as he dipped his head, splashing onto Pete's cheek. "We have to control... who lives here," Rick growled, applying more pressure. 

  "That's never been more clear to me than it is right now." Deanna's shoulders were straight, her chin held high.

  Zepp whirled to face the smaller woman, her fingertips dusting the tip of the dagger she pilfered from Carol's stash. Though Deanna's eyes never strayed from Rick, Zepp could've sworn she saw her tense the moment she gripped the handle.

  "Me?" Rick scoffed a laugh, a wicked smile cracking the drying blood on his face. "Me, you mean.. you mean me!? Your way's gonna destroy this place, it's gonna get people killed, it's already gotten people killed."

  She felt her heart twist and ache at the thought of Tyreese, given up as bait to the walkers by the very community these people wanted them to conform to.

  "I'm not gonna stand by, just let it happen. If you don't fight, you die. I'm not gonna stand by and-"

  His vehement speech was cut short by the thunk of Michonne striking him in the back of the head, his unconscious body loosely falling to the ground. She grabbed the gun out of his limp hand, shoving it into her back waistband.

  Everyone was still, silent. Scared.

Zeppelin toed the edge and then jumped, making the first move as she hurled herself forward to pull Rick up straight against her. Her eyes scanned the crowd, and she couldn't help but notice how the Alexandria people stood to one side, while her group was on the other, and Michonne's feet were planted firmly in the middle.

  "I'll handle it." Three words spoken only to Deanna through gritted teeth as the others looked on, fear still striking their faces. Deanna watched her, her gaze narrowed, then nodded once in response before slowly turning away, linking her arm with Spencer's as she went.

  God damn it.

⤐

  They were quiet at first.

Rick leaned against the porch banister where Zepp was perched, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the wood. She wanted to let him speak first, but the longer they sat in silence, the more she wanted to scream.

  "He was beating her," he murmured finally.

"Jessie."

  Her stomach plummeted.

"Can't have men like that in here," he continued, nodding in response to some unasked question. "People like that don't deserve to have what we work for. It's not right."

"But beating him senseless in front of his children is right?"

He flinched slightly, gripping the banister harder until his nails dug into the wood. She could see him sifting through his mind for the words, searching for some reasoning behind what he did. In the old world, above everything, Rick was a noble man, a sheriff with a sense of right and wrong. A moral code he stuck to, no matter what.

In this world, the two sides are muddied and grey.

"One day he's gonna hit her and she won't get back up. Her children will be there then. If anyone's not gettin' back up.. I choose him."

She arched her brow and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Trust me, I'm the first one to jump at the chance to give an abuser what they deserve. What I'm saying is we should've clocked the asshole in private, if only so Ron and Sam didn't have to witness it. These kids aren't like Carl.. they're still soft." Rick looked at her then, his eyes bloodshot and hazy.

"Look, I'm on your side, Rick. Always have been, always will be." Her words were calm and measured, carefully planned. "But that's why I need you to be careful. You want to be here and you want your kids here, that alone is enough for me to stay. So don't go looking for trouble."

"We can handle any trouble these people give us, you know that. You've seen them, Z. Most of these people have never stepped foot outside these walls since it all went down, let alone had to defend themselves against it. They're willfully ignorant to what's going on around them and we will not go down with them."

A flutter of rage burned behind his eyes, and she was almost certain she could see the ghosts haunting them. The farm, the prison, Lori, Dale, T-Dog, Beth, Hershel, Andrea, Tyreese, and so many more she did not even know. All the people and places they'd lost along the way were fighting for champion of the Worst Memory Contest.

"We can take this place," he voice dropped low to a whisper, his eyes darting to the open back door. "If it doesn't work out, things go south.. we just take it."

Zepp sat up straight, gauging his expression. "What about the others?" She followed his gaze and tilted her chin towards it. She could see Maggie and Carol happily slicing bread for sandwiches through the open kitchen window, the smell of baked apples wafting towards her. "You think they'd be up for somethin' like that?"

"Glenn shoulda left Nicholas out there, come up with some story," Rick mumbled, drifting off into darkness she could not follow. "I don't think they can see it, how things really are. I don't... I don't think they can just yet."

  She hissed in a sharp breath, gritting her jaw. "So then what are we gonna do about it?"

  Rick's hazy, far away eyes only frustrated her more, rubbing the back of her neck to release the pressure there.

  "Glenn thinks we're them now, but we're not. We can't be," he grumbled, lifting his tired bones to slide onto the banister next to her.

  "Rick, I need you to focus," She hissed, tilting her head to watch him.

  His brows dropped slightly, a glimmer of clarity returning to his dark gaze.

  "I don't know what our plan is yet, but their rules? We don't answer to them, not anymore."

  She shook her head softly, leaning back against the wooden beam. "Fuck their rules anyway. What do we do about Deanna? She's pissed, Rick. There's a meeting tomorrow night about what to do with you."

  He shrugged nonchalantly, as if he couldn't care less before he quickly hopped down, squeezing her shoulder with one blood-crusted hand as he turned to leave.

  "Fuck their meeting."

⤐

  The field was just as annoying as she had expected it to be. Tall, swaying weeds left untouched by man or nature for months slowed their steps, twisting around their legs and caressing their arms.

Daryl stayed close beside Zeppelin, glancing her way every few feet and reaching for her elbow every time she tripped on the uneven ground, which turned out to be a lot. He and Aaron swore up and down that they were following a person, based off the faint glow of a fire they had seen a couple hours before in the early dawn. She started to silently grumble to herself that they were full of it.

They were now fifty miles from home and no closer to finding this mystery survivor.

By the time the massive plane of grass had finally faded into a dense forest, she had to shove her hair into a wild bun to keep the sweat on her neck from drenching the curls.

Daryl wandered ahead at point, his steps slow and careful through the dried underbrush. He whistled lowly, signaling for her and Aaron to hang back. Aaron listened, immediately pausing with his shotgun raised. Zepp rolled her eyes and trudged ahead anyway, planting herself at Daryl's side.

"You ever gonna listen when I tell you to?" He hissed, anger creasing his brow.

"Fat chance."

He growled softly and pushed on, ensuring he was at least two steps ahead of her.

In the clearing ahead, she could faintly make out a body strapped to one of the trees, its skin hanging off in tattered, fleshy strips. She took her first step into the ring of sunshine filtering through the treetops, and nearly let out an embarrassing, animalistic squeal when her boot squished onto something soft and juicy.

Daryl pulled her back, his rough hands gentle against her skin. She spared a glance down, and had to work to keep the bile in her throat from spilling out.

A hand, bloody and broken on the ground below.

More limbs were scattered around the area, tossed as if the person who cut the bodies up played frisbee afterwards. A set of legs here, an arm over there.

She couldn't find any heads or torsos though.

"Whoever did this took what was left with them," Daryl's mumble matched her thoughts. "The blood's still fresh."

"This just happened." Zepp toed a calf in front of her, warm blood still trickling out of the slivered veins.

Aaron's skin had turned a sickly shade of green, beads of sweat spattering his face like dew drops on a blade of grass. He slowly made his way over to the body tied to the tree, lowering his gun as he stood in front of the corpse as if he was appraising a painting in a museum.

The woman had long, bleach blonde hair that shrouded her face where it hung low below her neck. She had been stripped naked, the thin ropes scraping and digging into her exposed flesh. Her stomach had been ripped open, likely by walkers, and her organs spilled out onto her legs.

Zepp hoped it was walkers, anyway.

"She was tied up," Aaron whispered, almost to himself. "And they fed on her. Tore her apart. This just happened?"

Daryl nodded grimly, noting the way the blood still poured sluggishly from the open wounds. He snagged his fingers in the woman's hair, tilting her head up to reveal the W carved into the center of her forehead.

"Who would do something like this?"

"Some sick fucks that I personally don't want to get the pleasure of meeting," Daryl growled, nodding back the way they came. "Come on, let's head back to the car, go around this shit and follow the road back north, maybe we can catch up with our new friend there."

For this trip, they had decided to bring Daryl's newly built bike along with the rusty red Honda that Aaron drove. The night Daryl joined him and Eric for dinner, Aaron offered him a salvaged motorcycle that he had always planned on rebuilding but never got around to.

Zepp found a sliver of satisfaction when she realized Daryl had been distant because he was actually busy, and that it had nothing to do with wanting to be away from her. If anything, every day that passed brought them closer, the need to be near each other overpowering the quiet awkwardness they had found themselves drowning in before.

Now, she rode behind him on the bike, her arms wrapped around his flat waist, the muscles there hard as stone. He smelled like an intoxicating mix of smoke and leather, with a trace of grass and wildflowers. She had to force herself not to bury her face into his back and drink in the scent.

They slowed to a stop when the road dipped away into a dirt path, the dense tree line making it impossible to see the horizon. A few miles ahead, there should be a warehouse, surrounded by wide fields and thick woods. If luck was on their side, the building wouldn't be completely ransacked yet.

"Someone came through here not too long ago." Daryl kneeled to brush crisp leaves away with a swipe of his hand.

Seems as if luck would not be on their side after all.

"If we see them, we hang back," Aaron ordered calmly. "Set up the mic, watch and listen."

"For how long?" Zepp held a branch out of their way as they passed.

"Until we know. We have to know."

"Have you sent people away before?"

Daryl's question sent Zepp's heart into a racing panic.

Aaron's hesitation to answer kicked it into full overdrive.

"Yes," he finally murmured, carefully avoiding Zepp's bewildered glare. "It was early on. Three people. Two men, and a woman. Davidson was their leader. Smart as hell, strong.. I thought they'd work out. They didn't. I brought them in, and I had to see them out."

They hopped over a thin creek, the sound of their boots crunching on twigs overshadowing the bleating chirp of toads nearby.

"So, me, Aiden, and Nicholas drove them out far, gave them a few days worth of food, water, and supplies.. and then left them."

"They just went? No problems?" Daryl cocked an eyebrow at the idea, as if going down without a fight was inconceivable to him.

Truthfully, it probably was.

"We had their guns," Aaron admitted, circling once to scan the trees around them. "We have all the guns. I can't make that same mistake again."

Zeppelin bit her tongue, hard enough to taste the copper filling her mouth. The need to keep their guns a secret was stronger than the need to rub it in his face that they had their own stash of weapons, and god help Alexandria if they try to push Rick and her family out of the walls.

⤐

"Look!" Aaron shouted, pointing off to his left. "I see him!" Daryl sped his pace to catch up to him at the small mound of packed dirt, already pulling the binoculars out of his bag.

Daryl passed the binoculars to Zeppelin the moment she reached his side, grazing his fingertips lightly against her own. She tried to focus on the red poncho bobbing through the field a half mile or so ahead of them, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with Daryl standing just behind her. His warm breath tickled the back of her neck, making the hairs on her arms stand up straight.

"We're getting closer," Aaron cheered, shoving a water bottle back in his pack and turning to continue their trek.

"Come on, Ace," Daryl mumbled, adjusting the bow strapped back across his broad shoulders.

A few miles, couple of bottles of water, and a storm of curses later, they finally came up to the warehouse parking lot. A few walkers wandered around aimlessly, but the man in the poncho was nowhere in sight.

Aaron gripped the chain link fence surrounding the lot, hanging his head low in defeat. "We've searched the woods, we've searched the roads," he sighed. "We can't find him. Sometimes people slip away, it happens."

She wondered if he was trying to convince them or himself. "But you don't come across something like this every day," he nodded at the delivery trucks lined up in the back of the building.

DEL ARNO FOODS was stamped on the side of each one, and the thought of crates full of canned goods made her stomach grumble audibly.

"We do this now, it'll be like we're giving up," Daryl breathed haggardly. She searched his face for something, some clue as to why he wanted to keep looking, and she found only a thoughtful curiosity.

"Home is fifty miles back," she offered slowly, reaching out to rest her hand on his muscled shoulder. "Maybe it's time to give up."

"We'll find people," Aaron agreed, a grimace replacing the usual perky smile. "But when we do, we need to be able to feed them."

Daryl sighed, turning his gaze to Zepp. Not like he was asking her for anything, but like he was simply just taking in the image of her.

"Alright," his gravelly voice purred. "Let's do it then."

He tapped his knife against the fence rapidly, pulling the attention of the wandering, mindless corpses. They waited for them to press their rotting, torn faces against the fence, one by one stabbing their knives through the holes. When the visible area was clear, they dragged open the gate.

Wooden pallets were strewn around the lot, and abandoned cars with dried blood on the seats dotted the area. They crept slowly through the aisle between trucks, surveying their surroundings with weapons at the ready.

"Woah," Aaron breathed a laugh, bending down towards a license plate. "Wasn't sure I'd ever see one of these!" He immediately dropped to the ground, pulling tools out of his bag to jimmy off the Alaska plate. She remembered he said he liked to collect those with Eric, filed it away in her mind.

As he rambled about it being okay to give up once in a while, she and Daryl wandered through the rest of the trucks. The brick building beside them brought shade against the afternoon sun, cooling her skin more than the afternoon breeze was.

  She brushed her fingers lightly along one of the truck doors, tracing the deep scratch marks blemishing the metal. She paced around the side, almost bumping into Daryl. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her, quickly dropping his hands back to his sides.

"What do you think, Ace?"

"I don't know.." she whispered, clutching her gun a little closer to her body. "Something feels off. I don't know if I trust it."

He readjusted his grip on the crossbow, the muscles in his arms flexing with the movement. "Alright."

No question, no hesitation.

Pure, unrelenting trust in her.

When they crept back to Aaron to tell him they needed to get moving, it was already too late.