Sweet and Salty ~ Carl Grimes

Glenn Rhee - 002

Will decided to drive his family along the back lanes of Atlanta. Nobody had said a word since Will started driving the old, blue truck. The truck which had Daryl's motorbike attached on the back. The only sounds that filled the air was the groaning of the old engine and Brooks' heavy sobs that turned to soft tears as the drive went on. The eldest Dixon finally pulled into the woods, off the side of the road. He hid the truck from sight of other people who may drive by.

The young girl pushed open her car door, the seat belt hadn't worked for about seven years. As soon as Brooks shut her door, a hard slap was administered to her face. She didn't make a sound as her head flew to the left. Daryl and Merle watched in shock. "When I make a decision for my family, to save our lives, you shut up and deal with it. You nearly cost us all our lives with your dramatics, you understand that, bitch?"

"Yes, sir." Brooks whispered, her voice hoarse with grief.

Will nodded. "Remind me to give you the belt later. Right now, we set up shop." He then turned to his two sons, who were both watching him with glints of anger in their eyes. Disobedience they had never displayed before. "You two ain't to old for a beating, ya know?"

Merle rolled back his shoulders and slapped his brother's back to get him back to reality. Drag him back from the anger. "Come on, little brother. Let's get these tents up, huh?"

Daryl didn't respond, but he nodded, instantly doing as his brother said. Will looked back down to Brooks. "Go get some fire wood. Stay where we can see ya."

Brooks didn't answer but she instantly complied. Luckily, these woods were a lot more scares, so Brooks could go decently far without being out of eye sight. Her father had been training her for this pretty much her entire life, he was a survivalist and therefore so were his children. Just the summer before Brooks was left alone in the woods for three days. He'd blindfolded her and dropped her off at random coordinates with nothing other than a pocket knife and a bottle of water. He told her she had to find her way home, and she did. Just because Brooks didn't like the outdoors and the whole survivalist thing, didn't mean she didn't know how to do it.

Will sat sharpening his knife while Daryl and Merle set up the tents. "You know he hits 'er?" Daryl asked his brother, quietly.

"You didn't?" Merle responded.

"It ain't right, man. She's only a little girl." Daryl argued, still making sure their father couldn't hear the conversation.

Merle scoffed. "And we were what?"

Daryl shook his head. "That was different, we were boys, we were made to handle that. Brooks is different than we were, she's soft, she's innocent."

Merle licked his lips before speaking. "No kid is made to handle that, Daryl. No boy, nor girl, is born ready to be beaten. Is born strong. Dad made us strong. He's makin' her strong too. You'll see, he's the reason we'll survive this. She ain't strong yet, you saw her earlier. Brooks needs this."

"Nah, man. Strength doesn't come from a belt." 

"Then where's it come from? Within? Jesus, Daryl, you sound like a fuckin' cat poster. Unwind your panties and shut up." Merle said, moving on to set up the other tent by himself. Deep down, Merle didn't believe his own words, he knew what his father did to him and Daryl and now Brooks is wrong... But, it was the way he was programmed for forty years. That doesn't just come undone from watching a crying child, it's gonna take a while.

Brooks toddled back over with the fire wood, she bent over to dump it on the ground. Her skirt rose in the process, and allowed Daryl to see the dark bruises forming on the back of her thighs from where her father had struck her that morning. Daryl itched the back of his neck in contemplation, before he went back to his task. Brooks started digging the hole with her hands so that she could make a safe fire, the last thing this world needed right now was a forest fire.