Daryl's Angel (10th Anniversary Edition)

Chapter 56: Medicine Run

Daryl leans over the hood of a broken down mini van as he installs a new battery, cigarette between his lips. Bob smokes, propped against the wall of the run-down gas station at their backs while Michonne and Tyreese sit at a distance, waiting to see if their new ride works out.

Daryl doesn't show it, but he's dying to get back out there. They already lost one night running into a giant herd plus losing their car and he can't stand to waste more time. Every second he's out here, it's another second that everyone has to fight against the sickness. It's another second Hope's in A block. To be fair, he isn't sure he'd prefer it for her to be out here.

Best to distract himself from it all. "You never told us about the group you were with before," he says. A puff of smoke leaves his lips.

Bob takes a drag, then exhales. "Which one?"

Daryl looks up at him, carefully reserved, before he turns back to the battery, checking the cells again. He was expecting a story, something to listen to so his thoughts don't linger on his wife, but he isn't willing to dig deep into the loaded question Bob's given him. It's not fun to talk about the people you've lost.

"You know, when you found me out on that road, I almost kept walking," Bob says. Apparently, Daryl thinks, he does want to talk.

"Why is that?" Daryl shifts the cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other and grabs the jug of water at his feet, pouring a little into the cells.

"Cause I was done being a witness. Two times, two different groups," he continues. "I was the last one standing. Like I was supposed to see it happen, over and over, like it's some kind of curse."

Daryl pinches the cigarette between his pointer and middle finger, exhaling smoke. Bob sighs, looking towards the sky.

"But, when it's just you out there with the quiet..." He sighs again. "Used to be I'd drink a bottle of anything just so I could shut my eyes at night."

Daryl can relate to that, just a little. He felt that right near the start, when Merle had disappeared and he was stuck in a group of strangers. He was determined to drink any and everything he could to forget it all. Now, whenever he thinks of that night, it's all her—flushed cheeks, soft giggles, slow words.

"Figured the prison, the people, thought it'd be easier," Bob continues. Daryl keeps working on the car. "The run to the Big Spot, I did it for me."

He takes a swig of water. "You gotta keep busy."

"No. I did it so I could get me a bottle. Of anything." Daryl watches him, but Bob doesn't meet his eyes. "I picked it up, I held it in my hand, but I put it down. I put it down so hard it took the whole damn shelf with it. That's what brought on the walkers and that's what got Zack killed."

Daryl stares at him for a second longer. "That's bullshit."

It's a supply run. You get what you need. Daryl doesn't believe anyone goes out on runs purely out of the goodness of their heart or just for the fun of it. The way he sees it, if something selfish gets you out there, gathering the shit you need to survive, then it's none of his business why you put yourself in that position.

"Why don't you get in there and try the engine?" Daryl asks. "It's a red and a green wire. Go on. It ain't rocket science."

Bob pushes off the wall, stubbing his cigarette out beneath his boot, and heads for the driver side. Daryl steps back, leaning around the side to watch as Bob climbs in.

"Give it some gas."

After a second, the engine starts, and Daryl gives a few celebratory claps. Good, at least one thing can go right today. He turns, taking the cigarette from his mouth and letting out a sharp wolf-whistle. Michonne and Tyreese look up from where they're sitting.