endnote.

Chapter Three - prosthetic love

Chapter Three

Dread. If ever there was a feeling to describe what the pit of Beth's stomach felt like right now, dread would pretty much sum it up nicely. Sick to her stomach was a close second and pulling swiftly into third place was a gut wrenching intuition that what they were about to do was borderline suicidal. She swallowed hard and felt her dehydration in the back of her rasping throat. She wondered how they'd found their way to this place and just how many people had been here before them thinking the exact same thoughts. Whether they too had tried... and failed.. Would they fail? Or would luck be in their favour today? Beth wasn't so sure of either way any more, slightly disorientated she found it ironic that before the apocalypse you wouldn't get her remotely close to the edge of a vertical drop and yet here she was standing at the edge of a never-ending pit of darkness. It was almost claustrophobic.

Weeks had passed since she'd lost her parental support and though in the beginning it felt like she wouldn't make it Beth had begun to show signs of an appetite, of being interested in something other than just sleeping and whilst there were days when she was overwhelmed with sadness, there were the odd good days where everything didn't feel so messed up, and she even managed a few smiles at Daryl's silly jokes. She'd gained the support of another in this time, his sheer tenacity had saved her life and she owed him, big time.

She obviously couldn't hide the fear from her features because Daryl had his semi reassuring smile facing in her direction. It wasn't helping, she was terrified. The floor boards creaked under her feet and she nearly had a heart attack. They'd found their way along a trail that led deep into the woods just outside Atlanta before they'd come out the other side in a small town that had only one street and a couple of stores; taking what they could from the outdoors and hiking centre, a few cans of meatloaf and beef jerky from a couple of houses but when they had happened on this place it felt like finally someone was looking out for them. Beth would like to think that that was her father, but Daryl knew better, though he didn't say as much.

They'd made their way in through a broken window; Daryl had gone first clearing the way as best as he could but Beth had still nicked her leg just below her knee, the red seeped out and was now slowly drying on her pant leg. He'd forged ahead crossbow at the ready and she'd followed suit till they both found themselves standing in a giant atrium sized room, with arches and broken architecture everywhere. Standing. Staring down... into the chasm through the broken floorboards. Her hand reached for the flash-light dangling at her side, shining it downwards into the darkness everything the light touched shone like a mirror directly caught in the sunlight. The beam glazed over bottles, by the dozen, of water and Beth's parched mouth hurt as she imagined the cool liquid coursing down her throat. Rows upon rows of canned food, each label looking heavenly attractive to one who'd been eating bran mash and grass snake meat for the last few weeks. They'd hit on some kind of pantry; she couldn't make it out from the store they stood in, but maybe it had been someone's stash from the start, an almost post war shelter full of food. Feeling like she needed to double take she ran the flash-light back over what she had already illuminated; her gaze shifted towards Daryl who'd placed his crossbow some way a ways from the gap, the shelves were some two floors below them, the ground had given way and lay as debris at the bottom another floor lower.

"How... we..?" Before the words had even left her mouth she knew how they would get down there. She could have kicked herself for being so foolish, she was the slighter of the two, Daryl had the muscles and she was going down into the chasm whether she wanted to or not. Daryl's hands were already in the bag pulling out cords, rope anything they could use as a hoist to get down down there. Mentally she tried to prepare herself for what would happen; for years she'd been terrified of heights, and now she was to hang over a darkness-filled three story hole in the ground with only Daryl's strength to hold her from ending up in the same mess as the wood at the bottom.

"Stay here" Daryl instructed her, the mixture of ropes tied together at his feet did not give her confidence. "We need a stronger rope" he handed her his knife, hoisted his crossbow onto his shoulder and disappeared the way they'd come in. She swallowed audibly and nervously busied herself with emptying her bag so as to fill it with the supplies. He wasn't more than a few minutes returning with a smile on his face and a neon pink/orange climbing rope and clips suitable for an expedition into the floor. Beth couldn't help smiling back, greeting him with an equally warm gesture. Though they never really said much she never felt unsafe in his company, being with him felt like coming home to family. He was after all the only piece of "family" she had left from their recently shattered group.

As Daryl passed by her close proximity he stopped for a minute, eyes hesitantly searching her face; seeing the fear radiating out of her, with furrowed brow he gently reached for her hand squeezing it reassuringly; "Ya ain't got nothing ta worry about, I ain't gone drop ya, a'right?" he gathered up the rope and made a harness from a couple of sweatshirts, Beth shuffled into the makeshift hoist, looking up at him their eyes met; he'd not seen those eyes directly for weeks; it hit him right at the core. At a last stretch attempt at being brave she looked at him indignantly; "You'd best not drop me Daryl; if I come back as a walker your brain is the first I'm eating!" He couldn't tell if she was serious or not, but given the current situation and it's ominous meaning he held his hands up in mock surrender which was followed up by playful slap from Beth.

Throwing the rope round the stub of a broken pillar at the side of the room, Daryl came back to where Beth stood and tested the strength of their slapdash gear, if it held against his weight they'd be safe with Beth's slight frame. "Ya ready?" he asked, pulling on his leather gloves and preparing to form a human winch. "As ready as I'll ever be..!" Beth pushed the words out with as much enthusiasm as she could in the current climate. Lifting the empty bag over her head wearing over he shoulders she shimmied to the mouth of the hole, focusing on Daryl he nodded, braced and she disappeared over the edge.

Dangling in mid air she could hear Daryl grunting above, struggling to hold her weight and the weight of the bag that was slowly being packed with food. Reaching for another tin, Beth tried to keep the rope from swaying too much, another couple of bottles of water and she turned slightly to zip the bag closed. The rope moved dropping a little, "Daryl.." Beth uttered slightly unnerved, the bag, she'd flung over her shoulder slipped a bit, the rope shuffled slightly through her fingers. She stopped moving, slowing her breathing so she could concentrate.. "Daryl...!" there was urgency in her voice now, her younger self needed to hear him say something, anything at all. She needed reassurance – she needed to forget she was dangling from a rope in a black pit two stories in the air.

When it came she could have cried, but she composed herself... something was wrong.. "Beth.." his voice was strained.. "Beth... drop the bag... Beth, I can't hold y... ya need ta drop the bag.." another nudge as her stomach dropped the second time, the rope giving even more, struggling with the strap she tried to ease the bag over her head without compromising their situation further. It was too heavy. She needed one hand on the rope to steady herself, and with only one arm to lift the bag Beth was stuck.. stuck and slipping from Daryl's safe hands above. "I can't... it's stuck... Daryl!" though she'd started a mantra not to freak-out it was starting to work in reverse and all she could do now was the opposite. Panic bubbled up to meet her as the rope gave way at least a foot this time; dropping her lower into the ground; "Daryl!, please I'm slipping...!" she clutched for the shelves, their wooden slats inches from her fingers, too far to reach without swinging for them and causing the rope to slip further, reaching round she hurriedly unzipped the bad pulling the contents out and chucking it away, anywhere away from her and their imminent fate, Daryl shouted at her from above, it was inaudible but frantic; she'd stopped unpacking to look up to hear what he said when there was a graunching noise, a creak followed by a cracking sound... Glancing up she saw the rope come crumpling down towards her and Daryl's mortified face in the light above her.

The rope grew slack in her hands and with an ultimate feeling of dread she knew what was coming next but it didn't stop the scream from erupting from her mouth as she fell backwards into the darkness.

"BETH!"

~

"In the dark I thought I saw you.. or was it nothing at all.."

(Lyric Credits: "Prosthetic Love" by Typhoon)