Chapter Text
in your head, in your head
The door to the bar swung open and he glanced at the clock on the wall. He knew exactly who it was. Automatically grabbing the bottle of vodka she liked and topping it with cranberry juice, he had it in front of her before she was even fully sat down on the bar stool.
"Daryl Dixon… my hero." She sighed as she took a long drink, setting it down and finally meeting his eyes with her own big cornflower blues.
"Bad day?"
Beth nodded as she swallowed another drink. "Yeah, a school bus crashed this morning. ER was full of little kids all day. Some really weird cases were coming in just as I was leaving, so I'm sure tomorrow will be even worse." She swirled the straw around in her drink and watched the ice cubes bounce around.
He was about to ask her what the weird cases were when the only other person in the bar waved him over. Thankfully, it was just to cash out their tab. Pocketing the tip they'd left him, he wiped down the bar and then made his way back over to Beth.
"Weird cases like… vampire bites or somethin'?" He asked jokingly.
Her head shot up and she looked at him strangely.
"How did ya know that?" She wasn't kidding either. Her face was unreadable, but there wasn't a laugh behind it.
Daryl shrugged and refilled her drink. She had drained the first faster than she usually did.
"Not vampires, but people going crazy and biting other people… almost like they're eating them." Her voice was hushed like she was afraid someone would overhear, even though she knew she was usually his only customer at this hour.
He always made sure to have the good vodka on hand when he knew it was close to the end of her shift. Merle was convinced it was because he had a crush on the blonde nurse, but there was something sad about Beth. He felt a connection to her somehow.
His tone turned incredulous. "Fuckin' serious?"
She nodded and stared at her drink again. "It was the most disturbing thing I’ve ever seen." Before she could finish her thought, Merle came bursting through the door.
"Gotta get outta here, Darylina. Fuckin' crazy shit goin' on out there and I'm not high or drunk enough ta be imaginin’ it!" Merle finally noticed Beth sitting at the bar, watching him with wide eyes. "Ya got somewhere ta go, Blondie? Outta the city?"
"Why the hell she need ta get outta the city? What in the hell are you goin' on about?" Daryl had seen Merle like this a few times. Mostly when whatever drug he was taking sent him on a bad trip, but he actually seemed to be sober.
"I'm talkin' 'bout people dying and comin' back ta life and eatin' other people! Haven’t ya heard the emergency alerts goin’ off? It’s all over the damn TV. Got an Army buddy at Fort Bragg. Says they're gonna start droppin' bombs soon ta stop the spread. So I'm sayin' we need ta get the fuck outta here! I threw the campin’ shit in the truck, got yer bow. Grab us some’a that snack food in the back and let’s fuckin’ go, little brother.” Merle was looking between Beth and Daryl, confusion on his face. “Seriously! I want outta this town like thirty minutes ago!”
Daryl grabbed the remote he kept behind the bar and pointed it at the TV, and just like Merle had said, there was an emergency broadcast on every channel. But they weren’t telling people to evacuate, just to stay off the streets and keep their doors locked.
“Where the fuck ya think we’re gonna go? If they were gonna bomb this place, they wouldn’t be tellin’ people ta stay in their houses.” He glanced over at Beth to see her frantically pushing buttons on her phone.
“Daryl, I think we need to listen to Merle,” she said, growing panicked. “I can’t get through to anyone. I just keep gettin’ a recording tellin’ me that the lines are down. I can’t get a text message to send either.” Beth kept smashing her fingers against the screen, her expression growing more concerned with every failed attempt.
“See, Blondie’s got it figured out, so why are you still standin’ around with yer dick in yer hands?” Merle leaned behind the bar and grabbed two large black trash bags, then he rushed through the back, probably loading up on all the snack foods they kept back there.
Beth was already starting to gather her things. “I usually don’t put much faith in what Merle tells us, but the people he was talkin’ about sound like those people that came in today. I should probably head back to the hospital. If things are that bad, they’re gonna need everyone there.”
Daryl stopped her with a hand on her arm. “If we’re believin’ Merle, then you ain’t goin’ back ta that hospital. Where ya think those first bombs are gonna drop?”
He watched her slowly register what he was saying, the war between her duty to her patients and her will to live obvious on her face.
She nodded, swallowing hard and looking around. “My car is back at my apartment. Dammit,” she cursed at herself.
“We’ll take ya there.” He looked over his shoulder when he heard the door to the back hit the wall as it swung open.
“Let’s go! Ya gotta go, too, Florence Nightingale. Can’t have the prettiest nurse in Atlanta gettin’ blown up or eaten by the dead.” Merle was grabbing all of the bottles behind the bar that he could fit in his arms before heading for the door.
“We’re takin’ her to her car,” Daryl said decisively. “If it’s that bad, we’re not lettin’ her walk out there on her own. Again, though, where the hell are we headin’?” He asked, thinking about it and grabbing a few bottles for himself and handing the brand new bottle of top shelf vodka he’d just opened to Beth.
She laughed a little and shoved it into the giant bag she always had with her.
Merle had driven the truck right up to the door ,so they just had to jump in and then they were off. The first two minutes of the drive were uneventful. Beth was giving directions on how to get to her apartment and Merle was messing with the radio, trying to find something other than the emergency broadcast.
“Holy shit!” Beth yelled from the middle seat, her small hand wrapping around Daryl’s arm and pointing with her other hand.
On the sidewalk, one man had another pinned to the ground. They all watched as the man on top ripped chunks out of the other man’s neck. Blood was covering his mouth and neck. When he looked up at the noise of the truck, it was obvious that something was not right with him. His eyes were filmy and vacant. His moves were jerky, and when he tried to stand up, he tripped and tumbled back to the ground. Instead of trying again, he began dragging himself along the sidewalk.
They slowly drove past, all three gawking, in complete disbelief of what they were seeing. Beth snapped out of it and pointed to a building about a block away. Daryl followed her finger and realized there was no way Beth was getting into the garage or the building. Five or six of those things were banging against the door to the lobby.
“No way yer gettin’ in there, girl,” Daryl muttered under his breath.
Beth gasped as someone she might have known tried to get through the group. One bit him and then they were all converging on him. It was like those nature shows when one lion took down a gazelle and the rest of the troop came to get a piece.
Merle gave a noise of agreement before pushing the gas pedal all the way to the floor. The streets were empty and the darkness was giving everything around them an eerie vibe. They were racing for the interstate, finally encountering some traffic, but it was nothing like the traffic that was trying to get into the city. The other lanes were at a standstill, people getting out of their cars and standing around.
Just standing around. Like dead people weren’t coming back to life.
Merle whistled and shook his head. “Bunch’a dead fuckers over there.”
“Don’t say that,” Beth sighed, picking nervously at the cuticles on her thumb.
Daryl agreed with Merle, but didn’t want to upset her any more than she already was.
They were about five miles outside of Atlanta when they heard the roar of the planes flying overhead. Merle pulled over to the side of the road and they all turned to watch out the back window. Suddenly, Atlanta looked like what Daryl had always envisioned hell to be. Fire and destruction. The planes kept coming, and more bombs. Daryl saw the people trying to get into the city jump in their cars and cross the median into the lane they were in.
“Go, Merle, this is ‘bout to be a madhouse!” Daryl demanded. “I’ll ask ya one more time: where the fuck are we goin’?”
Merle was already pulling back onto the road and trying to get ahead of all the people fleeing the flaming wreckage that was now Atlanta.
“North. Somewhere away from any cities.” Merle was glancing in the rearview mirror and chewing on his lip.
Daryl hadn’t seen his brother look this nervous in a long time. Probably not since the last time he’d been worried he was about to head back to jail. He was trying to think of somewhere they could go and be safe until this all blew over, but it was Beth that spoke up with an idea first.
“Head to Senoia. We can go to my daddy’s farm.”
Merle looked over and locked eyes with Daryl. He gave his older brother a nod. Seemed like the only plan they had between the three of them, but at least it was something.