MERLE WASN'T THERE by time they'd arrived, it was more surprising than finding a body or a walker. If anything, at first glance, it was as though Merle Dixon had never existed. Mya had never seen Daryl so upset before, not that the circumstances didn't make it understandable. Still, she didn't imagine that anyone could actually mourn someone like Merle, but she'd never openly tell Daryl that - not until they found his brother at least.
Upon closer examination, a severed hand laid abandoned on the rooftop, right next to an empty pair of handcuffs. It didn't take much guessing to realise what had happened, no matter how horrific the truth was, Merle had cut his own hand off to escape. A saw that had been thrown to the side rested next to the hand, the weapon he'd used to free himself. This clearly alarmed Daryl as much as it did the others, since he turned to T-Dog, bow pointed at him.
Rick returned the gesture in an instant, his gun pointed to Daryl's head, "I won't hesitate, I don't care if every walker in the city hears it." He clarified, enough convincing for Daryl to bring his crossbow away from T-Dog's head, much to Mya's relief.
He paused, glancing towards the man he'd almost killed, "You got a do-rag or something?"
Seeming just as surprised, T-Dog silently handed a piece of cloth to Daryl, not questioning why he wanted it. Any confusion was soon dismissed when he carefully picked up Merle's hand. Considering how drastically the whole world had changed as of late, Mya didn't think she'd be surprised if the hand started moving on its own.
She grimaced, an expression also seemingly worn by the others. "You're just gonna keep it as a souvenir?" Mya blurted out, only partially trying to hide her disgust. It wasn't as though Merle's hand could be saved, hospitals weren't exactly up and running anymore.
Daryl, however, didn't appear at all bothered by the sight nor picking up the hand, using one of the fingers to dangle it gently, "What? You'd just leave it?" He asked, not looking up from examining the hand as though
"Obviously!"
Ignoring her response, Daryl returned his attention back to Merle's hand, not that he'd really diverted it to begin with, "I guess the saw blade was too dull for the handcuffs." He acknowledged, more so talking to himself than the rest of the group, "Ain't that a bitch."
He stood up, putting the hand into Glenn's backpack. Not that Glenn seemed all too overjoyed by it, although Daryl hadn't asked for his permission. "He must have used a tourniquet... maybe his belt. Be much more blood if he didn't." Daryl continued, making more assumptions about what must've happened.
Mya was sure he knew scarily too much about the subject, but she decided not to bring it up. Besides, it wasn't as though she knew who he'd been before the apocalypse, she tried to dismiss it as him having been a doctor, but she didn't think that she could buy that. Without a word to the others, Daryl began following a trail of blood - Merle's blood. The trail led itself down the stairs, a sickening guide as to where Merle had gone next.
"Merle? You in here?" Daryl called out, his crossbow pointed just in case of any straggling walkers. Mya didn't particularly like the idea of following a trail of blood - there were yellow brick roads and then there was this - but she also didn't like the idea of hanging around on the roof alone.
The stairs led down to a long corridor, completely empty aside from one walker that Daryl swiftly took care of with an arrow to the head. It had to be the brain, that was what he'd told them all earlier that day. Mya was still trying to rid herself of the image of the decapitated walker, head still moving and groaning, searching for its next victim.
She found herself rather thankful, in a way, that Merle had left blood behind, she doubted anyone would've known where to begin looking along the corridor otherwise. The blood led them to an office, where two dead walkers laid slumped across the floor. Someone had killed them, Merle presumably.
"He was still able to take them out." Mya stated, both surprised and impressed. Sure, Merle wasn't her favourite person, but he was tough, she had to give him that.
Daryl nodded in agreement as he reloaded his crossbow, "One handed." He added on, "Toughest asshole I ever met, my brother. Feed him a hammer, he'd crap out nails."
Keeping a level head and his gun aimed, Rick didn't bother humouring Daryl. Mya figured he had to be realistic if anyone was going to be, he'd been a police officer, he'd probably dealt with things similar before. "Any man can pass out from blood loss, no matter how tough he is."
Perhaps Daryl knew he had a point, as he didn't argue, instead following the blood back down the hall and into a kitchen of some sorts. Daryl called out for his brother again, with Rick reminding him to be quiet, they weren't alone here evidently. The idea of more walkers nearby was frightening to say the least, but the putrid smell of burning coming from inside the kitchen quickly became a much bigger concern to her.
Glenn seemed to be wondering the same thing, frowning anxiously as Rick picked up a metal tool of sorts with something melted into it. "What's that burned stuff?" He asked.
"Skin. He cauterized the stump." Rick responded nonchalantly, something that took everyone by surprise and horror, minus Daryl. At least Mya could say Rick was probably used to things like this, she definitely wasn't.
She was more disgusted now than she had been at the sight of his hand. The smell of what she now knew was burning flesh was enough to make her want to vomit, "Why would he do that?"
In a strange sense, Daryl almost seemed proud of Merle for cauterizing his wound, "Told you he was tough. Nobody can kill Merle but Merle." He insisted.
Mya did have to admit, she was beginning to think he was right. Although, that had been proved from him cutting off his own hand to survive, she didn't think she could do that, whether it was a matter of life and death or not. Perhaps she just wasn't built for a world like this. Was anyone? "He's given himself a good chance at least." She commented quietly.
"He'll be fine, so long as we keep looking." Daryl stated, adamant that Merle could survive anything thrown at him. She wondered how he could place someone like Merle Dixon on a pedestal like this, it wasn't as though he treated Daryl all too kindly.
Much to Mya's surprise even, Rick didn't seem convinced, "Don't take that on faith. He's lost a lot of blood." He pointed out, another attempt to burst Daryl's bubble.
Daryl's opinion couldn't be swayed, especially once he spotted a smashed window, approaching it swiftly, almost in a rush to prove his own point, "Yeah? Didn't stop him from busting out of this death trap." He argued back.
"He left the building? Why the hell would he do that?" Glenn asked, voicing Mya's thoughts.
Pride quickly turned to bitterness as Daryl turned to answer Glenn's question, "Why wouldn't he?" He shot back, as though he'd do the same in his situation, "He's out there alone as far as he knows, doing what he's got to do. Surviving."
It didn't make sense to Mya, being more of a reckless, spur of the moment impulse than a tactical decision to her. Surely leaving the building while he was still injured was a terrible idea. "Why not wait here until he was healed? That's not called surviving, that's called having a death wish." She stated.
T-Dog nodded, making another good point towards Mya's argument, "Just wandering out in the streets, maybe passing out? What are his odds out there?"
"No worse than being handcuffed and left to rot by you sorry pricks." Daryl grunted, the same hostility he'd displayed back at camp fronting again. He glared at Rick, "You couldn't kill him. Ain't so worried about some dumb dead bastard."
Despite his attempt, Rick didn't seem intimidated by Daryl in the slightest, "What about 1,000 dead dumb bastards? Different story?"
Daryl didn't care, ignoring the odds stacked up against his brother entirely, he had faith in him and that seemed to be all that mattered. "Why don't you take a tally? Do what you want. I'm gonna go get him." He announced.
Prepared to storm off, Daryl was stopped by Rick grabbing his shoulder. After Daryl had spat out a few threats, yelling at the officer to let him go, "I don't blame you. He's family, I get that. I went through hell to find mine. I know exactly how you feel." Rick confided, sympathetic and trying to empathise with Daryl's situation, "We could help you check a few blocks around but only if we keep a level head."
Mya nodded, she understood the pain of not knowing whether your family was okay - alive, even - all too well. "He can't have gotten too far, he has to be around here somewhere."
Finally deciding to cooperate, Daryl refrained from throwing anymore insults Rick's way. "I could do that." He stated, caring more about finding Merle than his grudge.
"Only if we get those guns first." T-Dog chimed in, a good point now that Mya had thought about it. Atlanta was far from walker-free, they needed a better means of defence and so would Merle. "I'm not strolling the streets of Atlanta with just my good intentions, okay?"
Mya's glance directed itself towards the smashed window, a horrible feeling of guilt twisting within her stomach. They'd caused a man to cut his own hand off. "He's right, we're no good to him dead." She added on, eyes trained on specs of blood that had remained on the shattered glass. She couldn't believe she was even thinking it, but she hoped Merle was okay.