The Fear (The Walking Dead / Daryl Dixon)

Chapter 33 - It's Not That Easy

The beatings finally stopped, but the silence was both worse and better at the same time, yet the sound of my own breathing was becoming maddening.

And then I heard it. Footsteps. They wore boots, heavy ones. Then a scraping, like metal being run along the brick walls. Then a click. Then a creak as the door opened, my back to it. The door shut after the heavy boots stepped through it, but it was followed by that metal scraping sound once again as Merle Dixon ran his bladed hand across the brick wall, around the edge until he stood in front of me, but his weren't the heavy boots. He trod lightly, quietly, like a hunter, like Daryl always did. The heavy steps clicked as the other man stepped around the other side of me, finally showing himself. He was in his early 30s, Hispanic and well built.

"Hello, Sweetheart." Merle sang.

"That's the last thing I am." I seethed through a clenched jaw.

"Feisty, aren't we? Relax, I just want to have a little chat."

"We tried that already and if you had listened to us you'd be with Daryl by now."

"I lowered my gun."

"And concealed another."

"You kept yours raised. You were hidden and ready to take me out."

"And would have if you weren't Daryl's brother. I'd say you technically owe me your

life." I shot.

"And if you had just listened to me then you wouldn't be in this situation." He said right back.

"If you were lying, a threat which clearly you are, then that would have put my family in danger. Tell me you wouldn't kill to save your brother, or to get him back."

"Oh, I would. Which is why I suggest you start talking." Merle warned... and I laughed.

"You have Glenn and you have Maggie, but you want to know what you don't have?"

"And what's that, sweetheart?" He mocked, continuing to use the nickname that he now knew I hated.

"Beth." I stated simply. "My dad. Carl and Rick... Daryl."

"I wouldn't hurt my brother."

"No?" I asked back. "But would he?" I nodded over at the other guy in the room whose name I didn't know. "Daryl will fight for us and if he fights, your people fight back."

Merle looked over at him for a moment and then smiled, turning back to me. "You're a clever one aren't you? We don't mean any harm..."

"Is that what you said to Glenn?"

Merle took in a deep breath and then exhaled before walking closer to me, leaning over and resting his good hand on the arm of my chair and the bladed one under my chin.

"Are you close to my brother? You seem exactly like his type."

"His type?"

"Yeah, my baby brother has always been a sucker for the ones that are just too good for him."

"Awe, you know what I think? I think that's jealousy talking. Were they too good for him or too good for you, Merle?" I smiled, hearing a light chuckle from the other guy as Merle pressed the blade a little further into my neck causing a minor cut before he smiled and stood up again. I kept my content faint grin plastered on my face with an unwavering stare.

"Where are they?" He asked, getting straight to the point now.

"Go to hell."

"We're already in it, Sweetheart."