Daryl's Angel (10th Anniversary Edition)

Chapter 25: Judge, Jury, Executioner

Randall stays under heavy watch, but he does nothing but sleep and recover for a few days. The camp is restless; we're always aware of his presence but do our best to ignore it. Rick assures us that as soon as Randall's awake and even slightly mobile, they'll take him far away and he'll be out of our hair.

Daryl and I keep knife-training, wielding markers at each other, no shirts, and more often than not it ends in him pinning me down and kissing me like his life depends on it. We return to camp breathless and sweaty, dirt sticking to our skin. For the first bit, I waited for the other shoe to drop, preparing myself for when he'd try to push my boundaries, like Bennett, but he's stayed true to his word. I shouldn't be so happy to experience the bare minimum, but...

We're trying to figure things out together and it's exciting. It's fun to make out and grope each other like a bunch of horny teenagers.

He takes me along for a few treks in the woods and shows me how to clean game, although it's a long process and my stomach is not as strong as I hoped. We both get our stitches taken out and I'm left with a tiny pink scar on my stomach. I feel Daryl trace it with his thumb when we kiss.

A few days later, Rick and Shane drag Randall from the house, blindfolded and wearing a walkman. The music plays so loud that I hear it when they walk past me. They throw him into the trunk of Shane's car, Rick assures us once again that everything will be fine, and they drive off.

No one expects them to return hours later looking battered, bruised, and bloody, and even more confusion arises when they pull Randall out of the trunk. Randall goes back to the shed that acts as his prison cell.

"We'll talk in the morning," is all Rick gives us.

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As promised, we gather the next morning after breakfast to discuss the Randall problem. Lori pours coffee from the campfire stove into a mug.

"So what are you gonna do?" she asks as she gets to her feet. "We'd all feel better if we knew the plan."

"Is there a plan?" Andrea asks.

"We gonna keep him here?" Glenn asks.

"We'll know soon enough," Rick says.

He jerks his chin and we all follow his gesture as Daryl walks up. The knuckles on his right hand are bloody.

"Boy there's got a gang, thirty men," he reports. "They have heavy artillery and they ain't looking to make friends. They roll through here, our boys are dead and our women, they're gonna wish they were."

My stomach twists. Daryl and I lock eyes and I purse my lips.

"What did you do?" Carol asks.

"Had a little chat," he says.

I reach for his hand, trying to check the source of blood on his knuckles, but he shrugs it off. He doesn't stick around to the rest of the conversation, walking back towards camp.

"No one goes near this guy," Rick orders.

Lori moves closer to him. "Rick, what are you gonna do?"

"We have no choice. He's a threat. We have to eliminate the threat."

Again, my stomach twists.

"You're just gonna kill him?" Dale asks.

"It's settled," Rick says, absolute. "I'll do it today."

He walks off and Dale is quick to chase after him. The others disperse and I return to my camp, intent on getting my first aid kit and finding Daryl. With my kit in hand, I find him in his tent trying to wrap his hand in an old strip of cloth.