broken claims

Part 19

They were arming themselves with splinters pulled from the wooden interior of the train car. Leigh tried clawing her fingernails against any weak point to pry something loose and cursed somewhere by his elbow, fighting with the nails keeping their prison together.

Daryl removed his belt and wound it around his knuckles comfortably, metal buckle jutting up like a poor excuse for brass knuckles. He listened to the bits of conversation flashing around, voices echoing around the interior, his family confined in the darkness. Glenn bumped into his arm as he tried using the chain of the watch Rick reclaimed for him against the wood, carving a fair piece out.

Night time vanished any bit of light they had left. Daryl caught Glenn to steady him and felt the tension of his arm beneath his hand. "You good?" He asked.

Last time he had seen Glenn, the man was half dead from sickness. "Could be better," Glenn muttered back, wrenching the chain harder.

He positioned himself neatly between Leigh and the strangers to keep a boundary. "Yeah, well. These pricks will get what's coming for them."

"So when did you have a kid?"

That question had flashed around quietly between Glenn, Maggie, Sasha, and Bob. Leigh bristled and pretended she couldn't hear them whispering and Daryl tried to avoid the details. "Little over fifteen years ago, I guess."

"You never said anything," Glenn said, voice hitching as he twisted the chain a little harder, piece of wooden bending at where the point of contact was weakening. "Thought it was just you and your brother."

"Didn't have her when the world went to shit. Had no idea if she survived the fall," Daryl trailed off, tightening his own makeshift weapon to make his hand ache from the pressure. "Just assumed she died like everybody else. Easier, you know. Had to think she was dead and not being torn apart or hungry somewhere."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Never thought you'd be a dad. That makes you weirdly responsible now. I gotta reevaluate everything I know about you now."

Daryl breathed out slightly. "She's a good kid."

Leigh suddenly barked out a harsh string of profanity as she stumbled back, fingers clinging to a nail she successfully pulled from the wall. He caught her and she jerked away, putting space between her and him. "I got it," she bit out, voice sharp in the black gloom. "I'm fine."

They were on the verge of dying a horrible death. He pulled back his own instinctive response to tell her to watch her mouth. "Go take a breather," Daryl responded firmly, fingertips prodding her shoulder and pushing her to one section of the wall. "Rest before you knock yourself over."

"I'm good. I just lost my balance for a second."

"I'm telling you, not asking."

"Kid said she's fine," Abraham's voice bristled. "Let her go to town if she wants."

"Why don't you stick clear of our business?" Daryl fired back. "Ain't asking for third party commentary."

Sasha clearly had enough of the brewing fight and came between them. "Before they put you in here, you didn't see Tyreese anywhere?" She asked, her boot laces in hand. "Any sign he made it clear of the prison?"

"Nah. He wasn't anywhere I went."

"Good," she said, defiance burning in her voice. "Whatever they've got... they won't have him. Tyreese is smart. Maybe he went north, found a different route to travel. Might've never seen any of those signs."

Daryl couldn't help but think of the bag buried out beyond the fence. It was a goldmine of weaponry that they could have used to their advantage. The people he was with had become family, despite all odds, and they were also an assembly of soldiers drafted by a new world. And they were trying to rally with scrap pieces of wood and nails, prepared to come up swinging. It wasn't fair that they were stuck with low odds trying for a decent chance.