A Painful Place (Walking Dead Fanfiction)

Chapter 22: Recruitment

Tyreese stood up quickly from the porch where he kept watch as he saw two figures walking toward the house. As they stepped closer he could see their faces.
“Daryl?” he called as he ran toward them, keeping his eyes on the strange girl next to him. “Where’s Tilly?”
Daryl just shook his head and walked right past him toward the house. “I’ll explain inside.”
All eyes were on the pair as they entered, and their faces visibly dropped as they saw the girl that accompanied Daryl wasn’t Tilly.
“What’s going on?” Rick asked, stepping forward. “Did something happen to Tilly?”
“She’s alive,” Daryl answered, casting his eyes to the ground. He was ashamed to admit he had been forced to leave her behind. “We found some asshole about to kill her,” he pointed to the dark-headed girl who cowered next to him. “Shit got crazy and he ended up with his gun stuck in the side of Tilly’s head. Told me to take this one and he’d keep her. I couldn’t get a clear shot, so I came back here for reinforcements.”
“You left her?” Glenn accused, a look a disgust on his face.
“She can take care of herself!” Daryl barked as got in Glenn’s face. “You think I wanted to fucking leave her there? Didn’t have a choice if I wanted everyone to get out alive.”
Rick stepped between the two men and gently pushed Daryl away. “Alright,” the leader nodded, “we’ll go back now.”
Maggie, Michonne and Carl volunteered to go with them, and Carol took it upon herself to take care of the new girl while they gathered their weapons.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” she asked gently as she led the girl to a couch.
“Ashton,” she answered. “Ashton Marks.”
“Who was the man you were with?” Carol prodded as she pulled out a rag and began to wipe the dirt and traces of blood from Ashton’s face.
“My uncle,” she replied, tears pooling in her eyes. “He killed my dad, and if they hadn’t showed up I’d have been next. If he kills that lady it’ll be all my fault.”
Carol dropped the rag and pulled the girl to her chest. Ashton didn’t resist and let herself lean into the embrace. “Tilly will be fine,” Carol said softly as she stroked the girl’s hair. “I have no doubt.”
****
“I want to come,” Glenn insisted as Maggie took inventory of her small stash of ammo. “I hate sitting around here being useless.”
Maggie leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “If that leg doesn’t heal up right you will be useless. Stay here and rest. We’re just dealing with one guy here, shouldn’t be a big deal.”
“Ya’ll ready?” Daryl called as he pulled the front door open, chomping at the bit to get going.
The others met him in front of the house and he led them in the direction of the cabin. The only light outside was from the half-moon, but he had no trouble finding their trail. Daryl still had the rabbit Tilly killed slung over his shoulder. His mind was so preoccupied he hadn’t even thought to leave it at the house.
“It’s not much farther,” he explained as he studied their surroundings.
“Hey, do you guys smell smoke?” Maggie asked, sniffing the air.
Rick nodded, “Yeah, I do.”
The group picked up their pace in an attempt to catch up with Daryl who had broken into a jog as he approached the cabin. He froze as he reached the edge of the clearing where it sat.
Half-a-dozen walkers wandered around the place as flames licked out of the roof and windows.
“Shit,” Daryl hissed, shooting a bolt into the head of a nearby corpse. He took off running around the perimeter of the building, looking for any sign of Tilly. “She ain’t here,” he sighed as he made his way back to the others.
“You think she did this?” Michonne asked as she casually ran her blade through the face of a walker before decapitating another.
Daryl didn’t respond. He was too busy searching the edge of the woods for a trail, any sign that could tell him which direction she went.
“Anything?” Rick asked.
Daryl shook his head as he picked up a large rock and chucked it toward a geek. “Can’t see a fucking thing out here.” He felt a heaviness in his chest. He’d lost someone else, and he cursed himself for being stupid enough to leave her behind.
Carl, Maggie and Michonne took out the rest of the walkers as Rick approached the hunter, laying a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey,” he said softly as he leaned close to his face. “This isn’t your fault. We’ll come back first thing in the morning. Maybe you’ll be able to pick up her trail then.”
“I’m not leaving her out here,” Daryl hissed. “We decided to ‘pick it up at first light’ with Sophia and look what happened!”
“Tilly isn’t Sophia,” Rick responded firmly. “She can take care of herself for a night, you know that. She’s probably up in a tree somewhere, or maybe even on her way back to the house.”
Daryl shook his head and began to pace. “I ain’t going back without finding her!” he yelled.
Rick wasn’t shocked by Daryl’s outburst, but he knew if he let him stay out and look there was a chance he wouldn’t make it back. “We’re going back, Daryl,” Rick ordered. “This isn’t a debate. I’m not letting you go out in the dark and get yourself killed.”
“Whatever,” Daryl hissed as he stomped back in the direction of the house. Rick whistled at the others and they began to follow him back to camp.
****
Daryl volunteered to keep watch when they returned, and Rick asked Michonne to stay with him, just incase he decided to wander off after Tilly. He hated feeling like he was being babysat, but he was glad it was Michonne he was paired with. At least she knew how to keep quiet.
They sat in comfortable silence, staring off into the night for a few hours before Michonne elbowed him gently in the arm. “Over there,” she whispered, pointing down the road. Silhouetted by the moon, headed in their direction, was a crowd of the undead. He tried to count them quickly, but stopped trying when he reached twenty.
“Get the others,” he whispered and she took off inside the house.
His brain was running a million miles a minute as he struggled to figure out how they were going to handle all of them. At that point, they were running on minimal ammo, not that popping off rounds in the middle of a herd was a good idea, anyway.
A moment later Rick came bounding through the door onto the porch. He studied the approaching horde for a second. “We have to go,” he said quietly. “We can’t handle that many.”
“We can’t fucking leave,” Daryl insisted. “Tilly’s still out there.”
“I know, brother,” Rick said, lying his hand on Daryl’s shoulder, “but we can’t risk the rest of the group. Michonne, get the others and tell them to pack up and head to the cars. We’re leaving now.”
Daryl kicked the railing of the porch, splintering the wood, before walking out into the yard and aiming his crossbow toward the walkers. They were still too far off for him to get an accurate shot, but he didn’t care. He was filled with rage and needed to kill the undead bastards that were forcing him to leave his friend behind. He fired once, his bolt unsurprisingly missing the mark and sticking into the chest of a walker.
“Daryl!” Glenn called as the others began to file out and pile into the cars. “Daryl, we have to go!”
“Motherfucker,” he spat as he lowered his crossbow and walked backward toward the awaiting SUV. He climbed in the back seat next to Carol, Ashton sitting on her other side, and slammed the door before Maggie punched the gas and they were speeding away from any hope of being reunited with Tilly.
****
Daryl’s face was pressed against the cold window as the sun began to rise. They’d driven through the night, only stopping for a few minutes to regroup, as they continued toward DC.
With the exception of Sasha, who had taken over as driver, the others were asleep.
“You alright?” Sasha asked, knowing he was awake, but he continued to stare silently out of the window. “She knows which way we’re headed,” she continued despite his lack of response. “She’ll find her way there.”
“The hell do you know?” he answered harshly.
Sasha shook her head. She knew not to take his anger personally. “I know that this fucking sucks. I know that you’re beating yourself up over losing someone else. I also know that sitting back there pouting doesn’t help us a damn bit, so you need to snap out of it.”
“Fuck you,” he hissed.
“You know,” she began, “I lost my fucking boyfriend a couple of days ago and you don’t see me moping around. The difference there is your girl is still alive. I’ll never see Bob again, so excuse me if I don’t have a whole lot of sympathy. I care about Tilly, too, but there’s nothing we can do right now.”
You let things get to you, you’ll get yourself killed. Tilly’s words flashed in his mind, and as much as he wanted to push Sasha out of the moving car for opening her big mouth he knew she was right. He’d never admit that to her though, so he just continued to stare out of the window.
****
In the other vehicle, Michonne sat in the back seat next to Morgan. “Haven’t heard much of anything out of you since you got here,” she said to him, though being the stoic type herself she didn’t have much room to judge.
“Haven’t had a lot to say,” he responded. “I’m still getting used to being around people again.”
Michonne understood the feeling. When she first joined the group at the prison it had been a huge adjustment. “I was on my own for a long time before I met Rick,” she shared. “You get used to the quiet. It’s a big shift being surrounded by strangers all of a sudden.”
Morgan just nodded in response and stared at the notebook he held in his lap.
“I know you know Rick, but do you remember me?” she asked. “You were a little on the cuckoo side when we last saw you.”
“Yeah,” he answered. “I remember. I was in a dark place, still kinda am, but my memory is fine.” He was a little insulted by her question, but at the same time he was self-aware enough to understand how he probably came across.
“Rick told me about your boy,” she said sadly. “I’m sorry. It’s easy to lose yourself when something like that happens.”
“You have kids?” he dared to ask, and the look on her face told him the answer. “You did.”
Michonne nodded. “I had a son.”
“I’m sorry.” He was hesitant to initiate physical contact, but after a moment he reached over and patted her on the knee awkwardly.
Michonne snickered at the gesture.
“Sorry,” he chuckled. “I’m still getting back into the swing of this human contact thing.”
“Keep trying,” she smiled. “It’s like riding a bike. You’ll get there eventually.”
“As big of an adjustment as it is, I’m glad I found you guys,” he admitted. “Rick was the first decent person I met when this went down. I’m glad to see he’s not the only one left.”

“Shit!” Abraham yelled from the driver’s seat as their car began to sputter. “Out of gas.” He slammed his fist on the steering wheel as they came to a stop.
They all got out and went around to meet with the rest of the group, who were now parked behind them on the mostly empty interstate.
“You guys out, too?” Rick asked Sasha as she slammed her door and approached him.
“Almost,” she answered. “We can send a few people ahead to siphon what’s left from the other cars.”
“Probably won’t find much,” he responded, scratching his scruffy beard, “but it doesn’t seem we have many options.”
Michonne, Carol, Tyreese and, surprisingly, Gabriel, volunteered to look for gas while the others waited by the cars. Aside from the preacher, they quickly gathered their weapons and the two gas cans they’d managed to find at the house and set off.
Normally Daryl would have volunteered to hunt while they were stopped, but there were no woods to be seen. They’d hadn’t yet reached the city, but the area was becoming much less rural the farther they went. He grabbed his bag and sat on the cool pavement, leaning against the SUV.
Rick and Abraham bent over the map they’d stretched over the hood of the car and talked quietly about the rest of their trip while the others conversed amongst themselves.

“Excuse me,” an unfamiliar voice called, causing all of them to immediately jump to attention, “which one of you is the leader?”
Rick and Abraham immediately pulled their guns as they turned to see a slim, blonde man with wavy hair and friendly blue eyes approaching their small caravan.
“The fuck do you want?” Abraham barked, and the stranger raised his hands over his head.
“Whoever is calling the shots,” he answered, “I’d like to speak with them.”
They were all frozen to the spot, unsure of the man. He didn’t immediately appear threatening, but they were stunned by his boldness.
“I’m Aaron,” he continued, smiling. “I’m unarmed. I’m not here to fight, I seriously just want to talk.”
“Where did you come from?” Rick asked, aiming his gun toward Aaron. “Were you watching us?”
He nodded. “Honestly, yes. I was listening just to make sure you all weren’t dangerous or anything.”
“What do you want from us?” Rick glared at him, searching him over in an attempt to figure out his true intentions.
“I’m here to recruit you,” Aaron explained. “We have a settlement. A safe zone with nearly forty people. We’d like for you to join us.”