Beyond Terminus (Book Two)

Chapter 33: Cigarettes

Only a little while later, just as the sun is setting, we sit around the fire cooking large chunks of meat. I look at the piece in my hands, trying to stop the tremors running through me.

I take deep breaths through my mouth, the smell of the meat making me feel a little sick. That's normal for a pregnancy, so that isn't what's worrying me.

"Hope, if you ain't gonna eat, I'm gonna have to force you," Daryl whispers, tearing off another piece. I swallow nervously, and he sighs. "Don't think, just eat."

I take a bite. The taste doesn't make me want to puke, so that's good. After a few more bites, the hunger in me takes over and I chow down. Nearby, I can hear Sasha and Noah talking.

Noah says that he isn't sure he can make it, and Sasha tells him, "Then you won't", followed by the same thing Daryl just said.

"Don't think, just eat."

Carl walks over with another piece, handing it to me.

"No, someone else needs it more," I say, pushing it away.

Carl shakes his head. "You and the baby are our main priority, right next to Judith." I bite my lip, and his face softens a little. "Please eat. We're all worried about you."

I sigh and take it, and he smiles thankfully before heading back to his spot. I eat the juicy brown meat, feeling the hunger pains in my stomach diminish.

"Get some sleep everyone," Rick says. "We'll start out first thing tomorrow."

Daryl and I lay down, my head resting on his chest. One of his hands rests on my back while the other props his head up a bit. His blue eyed gaze remains fixed on the sky, his breaths even.

"Don't pull away again...please?" I whisper. He lets out a long sigh, and I hug him tightly. "I love you."

"Yeah...I know."

I smile sadly and drift off into the world of dreams.

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The next morning, as we're walking again, Daryl keeps his silent act going on. I don't try to start any conversation, and instead try to keep our latest meal inside me. If I get morning sickness again...ugh.

This trek is draining everyone, and grief still hangs like an unwelcome smog in the air above us. The humidity squeezes around us like a sauna and everyone's thoughts stick to the idea that those fluffy white poufs in the sky will grow into fat, water-bearing storm clouds.

On this sort of day before the apocalypse, people would be hitting the pool or going on a run. We wish we had that luxury.

I can only hope that our journey isn't all for naught.

The sun crawls across the sky, and we all grow even more tired. Night will fall again soon, and I can tell we'll need a place where everyone can sleep in peace.

"Daryl," Glenn says, holding a water bottle out to him.

"No. I'm a'ight," he grumbles.

"Daryl..."

"Don't."

Glenn sighs and looks at me. I can only manage a sad smile.

"Hey, we can make it together. We can only make it together," he says.

I take the water bottle, pressing it into Daryl's hand. He looks at me fleetingly before giving it back.

"You and the baby need it more," he grumbles. "Tell Rick I'm lookin' for water."

Daryl's POV

I feel numb. That's the best word to describe it. I need to get away and return to my element, disappear among the trees and stay there for a while. Hope presses the water bottle into my hand, and I give it back to her.

"You and the baby need it more," I grumble. "Tell Rick I'm lookin' for water."

Her soft hand grabs my wrist, stopping me. She slips the bottle into my belt with her free hand, and I watch her smooth movements.

"Please don't leave again," she pleads, her big brown eyes capturing my blue. I don't respond, and she releases me after a moment, her lips pressed together in a pained smile. "Ok...fine. Whatever you need to do."

I kiss her cheek and take off, the gravel crunching beneath my boots. As soon as I'm past the tree line, I feel only a little bit more relaxed. It's been a constant battle inside my head now and ever since Atlanta, and the trees help to alleviate that feeling minimally.

Three weeks.

Hope's been pregnant for maybe four now, if I'm remembering correctly.

Four weeks down, thirty-six to go.

After that, we've got a whole other life to watch out for.

I break through the foliage, catching sight of a barn. I stop, swinging my crossbow off my shoulder. I walk to the shade of a nearby tree and sit down, placing the weapon at my side. I dig into my pocket, pulling out the old pack of crumpled cigarettes and a lighter. I take one and put it in my mouth, lighting it.

I take a long drag, letting the smoke fill my mouth and throat. As soon as I've done it, I feel guilty again.

The next moment, I take it out of my mouth, staring at it.

Hope calls these "cancer sticks". She hates them, which is why I try not to smoke around her, or ever for that matter. Especially now, for the baby's health and hers, I shouldn't be doing this.

I watch the burning stub, the ashen end growing larger and larger with each passing second. I slowly take the end and press it onto the skin between my thumb and pointer finger. The smell of burning flesh hits me and I feel something other than numbness. I don't move the stick from my hand. I need to feel it. The pain is reminding me that I'm alive.

Soft hands grab my wrists, making the cigarette fall to the ground. I turn my head, meeting watery brown eyes. Hope kneels next to me, her expression grieved. I don't even care or have time to be angry about the fact that she followed me.

"Please don't hurt yourself..." she whispers, her voice breaking. "Please..."

I feel my chest tighten up as I tear my eyes from her face. Her gentle hands brush away the excess ash from the burn, and I feel my eyes grow itchy as my vision starts to blur. The warm skin of her hands envelope the roughness of mine, and a strangled noise escapes my throat.

I cry, letting the pent up tears trickle down my grimy face. Hope's arms surround me, and I pull her close, burying my face in her neck. She still doesn't squirm or pull away, as with all the other times I've let myself be weak; with Merle, with Beth...

I'll forever be grateful for that.

I've lost family and friends, but I've still got her. I still have my angel.

Thank God for that.