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During dinner, Beth’s thoughts bounced around in her head louder than anyone was talking at the table. Maggie kept talking about the close call their father had, how he almost lost his leg, maybe his life.
She has no idea, Beth thought to herself, remembering the appalling sight of her father being rushed back into the cell block, passed out, and bleeding profusely from his stump.
Her thoughts jumped back to Daryl, and the sight of him after killing those prisoners. The state of him, a damp towel the only thing between his dirty face and the pads of her barely trembling fingers.
A different thought darted into her thoughts; Beth looked over at Lori, who was about ready to pop. A lot of things had changed from the first time. Her father still had his leg; all of the prisoners were gone. But Beth had the sneaking suspicion that terrible things were still ahead. She hoped they could save Lori this time. Judith deserved to know her.
Finally, the group started disappearing back to their cells. Beth picked up an empty tray and filled it with the left overs she had kept anyone from touching. She walked back to the cellblock and quickly found herself pushing aside the sheet that hid Daryl inside his cell. He was still asleep, peaceful almost. Sweat gathered on his forehead, but the prison was warm. The man didn’t seem to be in the twists of another nightmare. Still, she approached slowly. The smell of food filled the cell. Beth placed the tray on the bedside table and rested a firm hand on Daryl’s shoulder, shaking him awake gently.
“Daryl, I brought you dinner.”
He stirred awake slowly, returning to reality from his slumber easier than he had the morning they’d gone hunting. His eyes opened and he inhaled deeply, and almost at once, his other senses kicked in. Daryl acknowledged the girl’s hand on his shoulder with a glance.
Looking up, Daryl caught Beth’s eye with a smile and pushed himself up. He rubbed at his eyes, and pushed his hair away from his face. “Thanks,” his sleepy voice muttered as he reached for the plate of food.
Before digging in, he scooted over on his bed and patted the spot beside him, inviting Beth to have a seat and keep him company. She gladly took the spot next to the archer.
“How’s everyone liking it?” he asked, turning his attention toward the warm plate and spearing the green beans with his fork. “You know, aside from the dead prisoners and walker-filled backyard.”
Beth gestured with her hands as she spoke, “Everyone’s in good sprits, even Maggie after all the whining she did about Daddy and his leg,” Beth managed a lighthearted chuckle, like she didn’t fully understand what could’ve happened. “It’s safe here, people understand that. As, uhm, different as it is to be behind bars. The food and supplies don’t hurt.”
Her big blue eyes watched as Daryl shoveled food into his mouth, and smiled at the sight. “You clearly needed sleep. I almost felt bad waking you up, but I figured your body needed food just as much.”
Daryl simply nodded and continued eating silently. He looked around the walls of the cell; his eyes were warm and intense as they landed on Beth. Clearing his mouth, he glanced over at her and smiled.
“Safety trumps style, nowadays,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Needs a poster of Kelly Kapowski, right there.” He pointed his fork at the opposite wall and nodded. “We’ll find you a Justin Bieber poster for your cell, Beth, don’t worry!”
“Justin Bieber?” Beth scoffed and brushed her shoulder against his. “Is that what you think of me, Daryl Dixon? I’m more of a DiCaprio gal,” she chuckled. He glanced at her and raised an eyebrow, and continued eating silently.
Beth noticed Daryl was getting close to finishing his plate as she remembered something that had come to her at dinner. “Speaking of entertainment, I was thinking a place like this has to have a library somewhere. Prisoners have the right to read, don’t they? Wanna help me look for it?”
Daryl scooped the last of his dinner into his mouth before he answered. He nodded a few times and set his plate aside. “Haven’t read a book since high school,” he began, getting to his feet. He reached for his crossbow and lifted the strap over his head and shoulder before securing his knife in the sheath on his belt and digging his flashlight from his bag. “Maybe I’ll grab something, too.”
Pushing the sheet to the side, he stepped out of his cell and waited for Beth to follow before dropping the drape. At her cell just next door, she slid her knife behind her belt and took up a bag for the books she chose. Daryl tossed his head down the cell block, allowing Beth to go first, and then followed close behind.
“Hey guys!” Carl’s voice echoed around them before the boy appeared in the doorway. “Where’re ya going?”
Daryl turned to look at Beth and she wondered if she was the only one who wanted this to be a private mission. “Gonna find the library,” he replied, instantly sparking Carl’s interest.
Beth stopped Carl short of asking his next question, anticipating it. “Not this time, okay? We don’t know what, or who, is out there.”
Carl started to oppose, started to say he was an adult now and he could handle himself. “C’mon, Carl,” Beth cocked her hip to one side and placed her hand around it. “Your mother would kill me. I don’t want her mad at me with those hormones!”
“But—” Carl started, but Daryl stepped up now. “I’ll take you out to the yard myself later, okay, kid?”
The teenager rolled his eyes and relented. Stepping back inside his cell with a groan of disappointment.
As Daryl moved forward, he pressed his hand against Beth’s back and guided her in front of him again, she felt at ease with him. The blonde could feel heat and color tickling the top of her ears.
They safely exited the cellblock without another confrontation, and once in the dark hallway, Daryl clicked on his flashlight and passed it off to Beth.
“Where d’you think it’s at?” he asked, walking silently behind the girl with his knife ready for any surprise walkers, even though he, Rick, and T-Dog did a good job clearing this section of the prison. “Upstairs somewhere?”
“Probably. Near the back of the building, away from all the usual hustle and bustle,” Beth mused, shrugging her shoulders. The beam from her flashlight danced around the wall from her movement.
The two moved quickly and quietly together, through the winding, dark hallways and up the main stairs. Almost completely silent as they covered more ground, so the gurgling sound of walkers reverberated around them loudly.
Daryl shot his crossbow without hesitating; the arrow whooshed past Beth’s ear, leaving her breathless. The farthest of the pack dropped almost instantly, and Beth’s knife sunk into the skull of the closest, leaving Daryl with the middle geek, which he took down swiftly.
The altercation pushed adrenaline through her veins as she caught her breath. Just as Daryl moved back into his position behind her, the flashlight flickered twice before going out. Beth muffled a shriek by turning around and burying her face in Daryl’s chest.
He jumped a little as Beth closed in on him. After a beat, he chuckled quietly and peeled the girl away an inch. “Scared of the dark, Beth?” he asked, groping around blindly for the flashlight. It had the tendency of going out even when the batteries were fresh. Daryl found her hands finally and tugged the flashlight from them, banging it against the palm of his hand a few times until the light flickered back on.
Smiling down at the girl still gripping his shirt, he handed the flashlight over again and gave her a one-armed hug. “We’re almost there,” he whispered and pointed down a hallway where the moonlight could be seen coming through a barred window. “Just there.”
Daryl clasped Beth’s empty hand in his and led her toward the library, which was at the end of the hallway like he’d said it would be. He peered through the window on the door and then pounded it loudly with his fist. “Think we should grab something for Carl?”
A few walkers could be heard beyond the door, opening just one of them, Daryl took out four, one at a time. Standing at the threshold of the library, Daryl put his arm up to Beth’s stomach. “Wait.”
The blonde pushed past him and was met with three dead bodies—not walkers, but guards—each with a bullet to the forehead, like a suicide pact. The thought brought her eyes to the shelves lined with dusty books. The moonlight filtered between the barred windows.
“Yeah, poor guy, maybe he won’t sulk around us for the next week if we do,” she moved toward one of the shelves now, sliding her hand along the spines.
At Beth’s words, Daryl’s lips curled up into a small smile. Joining the girl, he lifted his fingertips to the books and read the titles. “Not a big reader,” he admitted quietly as he skimmed, and then looked over at her.
Beth already had a few books in her bag, which she held open as she pulled more from the shelves.
“I used to love it. As a kid. Mostly comics,” Daryl continued to explain. “My mom had a lot of books. I remember wanting to read them, feel closer to her—if creating a relationship was even possible.”
Listening to Daryl talk about his childhood thrilled her even more than picking out books. It had been a long time since she’d had the leisure of getting lost in a good book, and she missed the magic stories created for her. But Daryl, talking about his mom and comics, it was more beautiful than her favorite story. The gruff man had a warm, snuggly center behind all of the defense mechanisms he’d built.
As he scanned the shelves, his eyes passed over a certain spine, which he tugged down. The tops of the pages were covered in a thin layer of dust and the binding was torn, like the book had been read multiple times over by careless people. Paperback books never lasted long. “I read this in high school,” Daryl stated, thrusting the book into Beth’s view.
She turned around to face him as he handed the book to her; Beth took it and flipped it over in her hands to read the description on the back. A Brave New World — a dystopian novel. She hadn’t read many before, but it seemed strange now. If the human race survived this ordeal, would society turn into 1984? Or worse?
“So you liked it?” she asked finally, finishing up the description and looking up to catch Daryl’s eye.
He shrugged his shoulders and tossed his head back and forth as he chewed over her question. He liked it, of course, because novels about a future world were always interesting. One of the main characters was relatable, especially for a seventeen year old Daryl. He’d written a paper on it, which helped him receive his diploma. But did he like it? It was work, he had to do it.
“I liked it,” Daryl concluded with a short nod. “It’s a good take on a new world. Ain’t got walkers in it, but it’s still good.”
Beth chuckled at his response and suddenly had an idea, excitement spread across her face. Almost bouncing now, she dug into her bag and pulled out a book, much thicker than the one Daryl had handed her. Grinning, the blonde handed it over as if she was gifting a prized horse to a giddy girl. She wasn’t, of course, she was handing a long book to Daryl Dixon, but she was hopeful as she spoke.
“This one is my favorite. I’m surprised they have it here, honestly. I bet some woman guard read it and thought the prisoners should, too,” she swiped the air with her hand as if she could push her ramblings away. “Anyway, I was thinking maybe we could trade books. I’ll read yours,” she held Brave New World up, “and you read mine.”
Daryl took the brick of a book from her hands, read the title—Change of Heart—and flipped it over like she had with the book he handed to her. He tilted the book toward the flashlight and quickly read the summary of the story. “…and the rage of a mother who has lost her child,” he muttered, turning it back over to look at the cover. “Is it gonna make me cry like a baby? ‘Cause…sounds like it’s gonna, Beth. Sounds like you’re tryin’ to make a grown man cry.”
He smiled, though, and nodded before tucking the book under his arm with every intention of reading it. After all, it was her favorite novel and like his mother’s books, he wanted to read it to feel closer to the girl. “I’m a slow reader, though, gotta give me time.”
“Oh, I’ll wait for you,” Beth glanced away shyly, the smile now permanently fixed on her face. “It’ll be worth it. The ending — I thought about it for weeks after.”
She carefully adjusted Brave New World atop the rest of the books in her bag, and faltered a little after holding the weight of her previous selections. “I should probably stop for now,” she noted. “If we ever get out of this thing, I’ll probably become a hoarder. I’m tired of having to condense all the time and leave things behind.”
A blush crept to her cheeks as Beth realized she’d actually said that last part. “Anyway, did you wanna get any more?”
Daryl nodded slowly in agreement to leaving things behind. “No,” he said, shaking his head earnestly, “I probably won’t finish this before…”
Stopping short, he kept his dissipating memory to himself and simply shrugged his shoulders. He smiled and shifted closer to Beth, his hand reaching down to take the bag and carry it for her.
Beth’s eyes were glued to the man as he leaned in toward her. Everything around them felt silent suddenly, she could hear her heart thumping against her chest. Watching him intently, she swallowed. Her breath stopped short in anticipation.
She leaned into him, just a fraction of an inch, and quickly swept the room before starting to close her eyes. It was then that she saw it. A fucking walker staggered into the library. Beth realized suddenly that whether the human race would eventually get rid of them or not, this was their life now. Trying to build a friendship with someone, or more, was tainted with the idea of danger and death all around them.
Angry and determined, Beth suddenly stepped away, just as Daryl’s hand grasped the bag’s handle. She wriggled her way out, and set her sights on the slimy walker. Steady, strong steps led her straight to her target. Like a graceful swan fluttering its wings, Beth slammed her knife into the walker’s brains. She grunted as she pulled it out again, and turned to Daryl, who stood there watching.
She shrugged and it was as if she could let all of that anger flow off her shoulders. “Guess that’s our cue to get back. We gotta get Carl his book.”