Chapter Text
Daryl stalked through the dense trees, eyes darting to every little movement in the brush. His arms held his crossbow level with his shoulders as he searched for prey. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and flicked the droplets off of his fingertips. His mouth was turned down in a frown, not in focus, but resentment as he thought about why he was sweating his ass off in the Georgia heat.
The rent a cop back at camp had taken charge and assigned Daryl and Merle as the camp hunters. The only thing Merle was hunting for at the moment was drugs or booze, so that left Daryl alone, in the woods. His hunt had taken him quite a ways away from the quarry, where the others resided. The underbrush was thicker here, and made it difficult for Daryl to keep his footsteps quiet.
He cursed quietly when a stray thorn caught his elbow. He wasn't bleeding, but it was still an uncomfortable and sensitive area for now. He shook it off and called it for the day. There was no game out here. The geeks had probably scared it off if they didn't eat it all already.
He turned around to retrace his steps back, but froze when he heard a small rustle back behind him. He raised his bow again and glanced at the trees. He saw nothing, but wouldn't give up on possible game that easily. He pushed back into the forest slowly so as to make as little noise as possible.
He heard a twig snap behind him and spun, ready to shoot. He was not expecting the sight that greeted him, however.
A woman, who could only be about five and a half feet at most, stood defensively a few yards away from him, without a weapon drawn. Her hair was a light, mousy brown color that reminded Daryl of a rabbit's fur cropped close to her head and littered with debris pushed back with a dark blue bandanna. Her eyes were a dark gray and her skin was probably pale before the outbreak, but was now freckled and rosy. She had black war paint smudged on her eyes and next to her cheekbones, as if she had rubbed her eyes and smudged the paint back into her hair. She wore just a black sports bra, but her lower abdomen was wrapped with a bandage and fresh gauze with the waistline of her pants covering the majority. There was a camouflage coat over her torso, not zipped and with a name tag that read "Danvers" sewn on. She was obviously taken care of, looking well fed and fit enough to run from the dead walking. She had blades tied at each hip and knives strapped to her thighs. She wore torn and ratty black jeans and what looked like military boots. Most intriguing to Daryl was the string of five rabbits around her shoulder.
She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes dangerously. When she spoke, it was cracked and deep, as if she hadn't spoken in days, weeks even. "Your camp, do you have kids there?" He could place her accent as foreign and sharp, like German or Russian.
Daryl didn't answer and kept his weapon trained on her head.
After a few seconds of silence she reached for her shoulder. Daryl tensed visibly, so she slowed her movements and held her free hand up, palm towards him. She brought the string of rabbits over her head, maintaining eye contact with the hunter. She tossed the meat towards Daryl, who took a small step back as they landed at his feet.
He glanced down at the meat, then back at the woman. She continued to stare, not moving. He slowly lowered the bow a few inches. She didn't react.
"How do you know I have a camp?" He asked with a gruff tone.
She blinked slowly, "I see you out here. Almost every day. You catch too much for just one or two people." When she said 'almost' It sounded like 'oldmost', so he decided she was Russian.
He narrowed his eyes, "I would have heard you."
Her mouth twitched up in a small, cocky smile, "I can be very quiet when I wish."
They stood in silence for a few moments, neither looking away from the other for caution sake. Daryl gestured with his weapon to her bandaged side, "Ya bit?"
She shook her head.
He furrowed his brow, "Then what is it?"
She raised a single eyebrow, raising the paint around her eyelids as well, "Are you worried?"
He scoffed, "I just met ya. Why should I care?"
"You tell me," She shot back.
Daryl opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by a low growling. He glanced to his right and saw a lone geek. His arm was rotted off and half of his face was missing or hanging off of his bones. He looked back to the woman, who was smiling gently. She waved her arm towards the shambling corpse, an open invitation for him to take care of it.
He looked between her and the geek before turning and taking aim at the dead. He delivered a clean shot in the center of its forehead, and it fell to the forest floor in a heap.
He lowered his crossbow and looked back to the woman, but she was gone without a trace. He turned in a full circle, muttering a "what the hell" as he did. But she was gone. A strong wind moved the canopy above him, but went unfelt by him. The only sign that she had been there was the string of rabbits at his feet.
He looked around once more before picking up the rabbits and slinging them over his shoulder. He hefted his crossbow into firing position again and began his trek home, watching around him for threats warily.
The woman peered down at Daryl from the treetops, hugging the trunk and standing on a large branch. She tilted her head like a curious squirrel as she watched him fight through the brush. She smiled and chuckled when she heard him curse at another catchy thorn.
The mystery woman looked down before stepping off the branch to jump to the ground below.
When Daryl finally got back to camp, he was deep in thought. He went straight to the chair outside of his and Merle's tent to begin skinning the rabbits. He almost didn't notice the thin brunette approach him.
"That's quite a catch you've got today," She was trying to make conversation. Daryl didn't want to deal with her today, so he just grunted in reply.
"Do you need any help?" She was still pushing.
"Don't you have a kid to watch or something?" Daryl couldn't help but snap. He knew that was rude, and that her husband's death had been hard on her, but he was really irritable right now. The woman he met in the woods occupied all of his thoughts.
Lori huffed but stomped off. Daryl returned his thoughts to the woman as he skinned the rabbits. She was there and gone so fast he was doubting her existence. Maybe he was going crazy. He decided to look around that area again, try and find some tracks or other evidence.
The next morning Daryl was awake before everyone else and ready to go. He slid down the ridge on the edge of the camp opposite the quarry and began the trek back to the grounds.
He arrived sooner than he expected, around mid day or so. He took a swig from his water bottle and sighed. It was extremely hot today. His sweat clung to his skin like a film, and couldn't be rubbed off. He was uncomfortable, hot, and now aimless. He didn't see any trace of her anywhere.
"You came back."
The familiar accented voice spoke up behind him. He jumped and faced the source, weapon raised. The woman from the day before, looking exactly the same as she did yesterday, stood right down to the fresh bandages around her waist.
"Yeah," He lowered his bow completely, "Why did you help me the other day?"
Her analyzing eyes were on him again and he felt exposed, "I am doing well for myself. You needed help. You have kids to take care of, I do not." She answered as if it was a calculating question.
Daryl gave a small nod and looked her up and down, "What's your name?"
She blinked, "You first."
"Daryl," He answered quickly, "Now, you."
"Faye," She gave a polite smile, "A pleasure to meet you Daryl."
"Faye?" He questioned in response, "Like the fairy?"
She nodded, "That's me." She had a teasing ring in her voice. "I wanted to give you something." She pulled a folded piece of paper from her coat pocket and held it out to him, her arm fully extended. She was still keeping her distance. Smart. He took it hesitantly. "I am moving on in a few days. I set up traps for game on the areas with a red 'X' over them. They are yours."
He looked up from the map in shock, "All of this? Why?" He thought there might be some kind of catch.
She shrugged, "You seem nice."
He waited for her to continue, but that was it. All these traps, a lay of the land, and circled areas of good game, just for being nice?
"Uh...thanks," He folded it up and put it in his back pants pocket.
Faye tilted her head, "Is something else bothering you?"
"No," Daryl realized he answered too quickly, "No. Was jus' hunting."
Faye nodded knowingly, "You wanted to make sure I was real, huh?"
Daryl scoffed, "I knew you were real." He turned his gaze to the suddenly very interesting tree beside them.
He could hear the smirk in her response, "Liar."
He scoffed and opened his mouth to reply, but she was gone again. "Ya know I really hate it when you do that!" He called out to the trees. No response.
Daryl was still thinking about the girl when he got back to camp. He had checked the traps and reset them, bringing back six rabbits this time. Shane sauntered over to meet him.
"Wow, Dixon. Whatever you're doing out there," He took the catch from him, "don't stop."
Daryl was too deep in thought to protest. He considered telling the camp about Faye, but decided against it. She knew he was a part of a camp, and she had never asked to join. And she would be a memory in a few days when she moved on anyways.
The next day, the Morales kids started coughing. Their parents tried to isolate them to their tent, but Carl and Sophia became sick by the end of the day as well. None of the kids could move without getting dizzy or throwing up whatever they couldn't hold down. The little Morales boy was only getting worse, and tensions were rising in the camp.
Daryl considered telling Faye about the illness. Maybe she could help them somehow. Shane was wanting to plan a search party into the city to find medicine, but that would most likely just result in more deaths. Daryl decided to at least tell Faye what was happening, and let her decide what she wanted to do, if she wanted to do anything.
He began trekking back to the overgrown wooded area in the middle of the day. The sun was sweltering and unrelenting, but Daryl pushed on. When at last he reached the clearing they had met all those times before, he was parched and out of water.
"Faye!" He barked out a call, not too loud for fear of the biters, but loud enough to ring through the trees. "FAYE!" He tried again. Maybe he was too late and she had already left. He was just giving up hope when a voice hissed at him angrily.
"Will you keep your voice down!?" He spun around to see her standing behind him with a backpack. Her war paint was smudged in a different pattern today, this time branching up her forehead, giving her a mystic appearance. "You will bring every corpse in three miles to us!"
"Sorry," He faced her fully, "I just wanted to tell you what's happening."
She looked confused and tilted her head, something that seemed to be an expressive habit of her's. "What is 'happening'?"
Daryl cleared his dry throat, "The kids back at camp are sick. The youngest is just getting worse. They can't keep anything down and are coughing like crazy."
She nodded, thoughtful, "How many?"
"Four." Daryl felt hopeful that she would help now.
She gazed into the distance for a few seconds, then answered, "Okay," She turned back to him, "let's go." She walked past him in the direction of the quarry.
"You'll help?" He jogged until he caught up with her.
"Well, yeah," It sounded like she said 'da'. She took out a canteen and unscrewed the lid, "Not everyone is heartless now." She took a swig, "Besides, I am pretty sure I could take you down if need be." She handed him the water.
He hesitated only a moment before he remembered that she had drank from it a moment ago, then chugged down a few gulps before he needed to breathe again. "You?" He wiped his mouth, "You're at least a foot shorter than me and a-hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet. Sorry, Tinker Bell, but you couldn't even--"
Faye ducked to the ground and wrapped her calves around Daryl's knees. Before he could fall she pulled his shirt by the collar and held him there. With her other hand, she caught the canteen before it could fall and held it above his head. Not a single drop spilled.
They stayed in that position, silent, for a solid three seconds before Daryl pushed her away by her shoulder. She released him and stood herself.
"That didn't count. You took me by surprise." He kept walking back to camp, leaving her behind.
"Well maybe we can wrestle for real, sometime." A flirtatious smirk graced Faye's face before she followed.
They walked in comfortable silence until they got to the edge of camp. Faye could hear the kids coughing, and recognized the sound.
"That's whooping cough." She stopped walking and Daryl faced her when he noticed.
"How can you tell?"
"I worked in a hospital for a time." She slung her backpack off her shoulders and set it on the ground. She knelt and began to rifle through it, "I will need at least ten minutes with each kid."
Daryl nodded, "I'll have to talk to Shane about that."
She looked up at him, eyebrows raised, "I would rather get in and out without being noticed, if you don't mind." She pulled a red box from her pack and stood up.
Daryl was immediately suspicious, "Why?"
Faye tucked the box under her arm and cocked a hip, "I take it you did not tell them about me?" Daryl shook his head, "Do you really think they would let a stranger near your kids in the middle of the damn apocalypse?" She gestured to herself, she was dirty, and the paint and bandage didn't win her any beauty pageant points. Compared to the women at camp, she definitely looked like a threat.
"I guess not," Daryl shrugged, "Then what do you want me to do?"
"I can handle everything if you can somehow get the adults out and keep them away from their kids for at least ten minutes. I may need more," her voice took on a commanding tone, "Maybe get them to help with different tasks around camp. Keep them with you and away. It will be difficult if they're protective. You think you can handle it?"
Daryl nodded slowly, "I think so."
"Great!" She flashed a grin, "Let's go."
The sun was dipping beneath the treetops, casting light rays of sunshine through the branches. Daryl climbed back up the ridge to camp, waved to Dale, then immediately headed towards the Morales' tent. The boy was the sickest, so he would get treatment first. He tapped on the wire of the tent with an arrow and waited while the tent unzipped and Mrs. Morales stepped out.
"Yes?" Her accent could be heard with every word she spoke.
"Hey, uh..." Faye was waiting to sneak into the tent in the treeline. She gestured for him to hurry it up. "Can we um...talk, over by the trailer?"
Faye slapped a palm to her forehead from behind a thick bush in the treeline. He sounded so suspicious!
"Uhm...yes." Mrs Morales tucked her head back into the flap and whispered, "Enseguida vuelvo,"(I'll be right back) She stood back up and walked with Daryl.
Faye crouched around the fabric and into the tent silently after Dale was turned away. Once inside, she knelt in between the children. The girl's eyes widened at the intruder and she tried to get up, wheezing. Faye put a hand on her chest and shushed her. She said quietly, "Cálmate, está bien." (Calm down, it's okay.) She flopped back down and continued to cough violently.
Meanwhile, Daryl was struggling to find a topic to talk to Mrs Morales about that would interest her enough to stay away from her kids for as long as Faye needed.
"So...how are they doing?" This was a good start. She immediately showed emotion at the mention of her sick children.
"I do not know...they are just getting worse." She wrung her hands and glanced back to the tent, "I fear that with no medicine they won't..." Her lip trembled and she burst into quiet sobs.
Daryl had never been more terrified. A woman was crying in front of him and he couldn't just leave, nor did he know how the hell to comfort her. She buried her face in her hands and stepped towards him. Daryl took a step back.
"Uhh...do you want to...talk about it?" Daryl muttered it so quietly he hoped she hadn't heard, but she slowly looked up from her hands and made eye contact. 'Oh no...', Daryl thought.
Faye peered into the small boy's throat with a light. He was so weak already, and his inability to hold down food would be a problem. This was definitely whooping cough, along with a stomach bug. Both highly contagious but easy to treat with the right medicine. She pulled a bottle of prescription antibiotics and a bag of cough drops from the box. She pressed the pills in her hand to his mouth and was unyielding until he took them in a daze. She held his water up to his lips and he gulped it and the medicine down quickly.
"Seré rápido." (I'll be quick.) She shifted her attention to the girl to do the same.
Mrs Morales was firing off rapid Spanish, obviously distressed. Daryl just had to stand there and take it, nodding for her to continue whenever she looked to him. He hoped Faye was about finished.
In less than a second, Daryl found himself hugging Mrs. Morales awkwardly while she wept into his shoulder. He had never been more uncomfortable.
"What is going on?" Mr Morales announced his presence when he walked towards the commotion by the RV. Mrs Morales turned to her husband and hugged him instead. Daryl was relieved but knew he had to keep them both distracted now.
"Just...checking in." Daryl's lame excuse flew past his lips before he could stop it. Well if they weren't suspicious now, they definitely were now. He wished Faye would hurry the hell up, already.
"Darling, why are you crying?" Mr Morales held his wife's face in his hands. She began speaking fast Spanish again. Daryl looked back to the tent at the first sign of movement. Faye was skulking out of the tent, she caught his eye and held a thumbs up before running back down to the woods.
"Well, you've got this handled so...bye." Daryl couldn't get away fast enough. By now the sun was out of sight, but it wasn't quite dark yet.
Daryl found Faye staring at Lori and Carl's tent. She could hear the coughing from inside, and came to the same conclusion. Whooping cough. Daryl joined her and watched around the tent.
She dug into the box and pulled a handful of pills from the bottle.
"What're you doing?" Daryl peered over her shoulder.
"I gave the Spanish kids some antibiotics. I'm doing the same for the others." She glanced at him cautiously, still not fully trusting of him yet.
"If any of these kids don't make it," He voiced threateningly.
"You will hang me with my small intestine. I understand." She didn't even look up when she set down her supplies.
He blinked and stepped away from her as she stood and stalked towards the treeline. Daryl walked past her and tapped the top of the tent with an arrow like he had before. Lori emerged, a wet cloth in her hand.
"Yes, Daryl?" She sounded tired and stressed.
"Shane wanted to see you." Daryl knew that would get her away for a bit.
She sighed, "Will you watch Carl for a bit? I'll be right back."
He nodded as she climbed out of the tent. After a glance up at Dale, he flashed a hand signal back at Faye and she scurried into the tent and out of Daryl's sight. He sighed. She'd better hurry if she wanted to do this before nightfall.
In the tent, Carl was turned on his side facing the wall. Faye picked up the damp rag and wrung it out in the small bowl they had. She draped the cool rag over the boy's eyes and set to work.
Carl murmured in a scratchy voice, "Mom...?"
Faye started to hum softly to calm him down. Luckily, he seemed to be too disoriented to recognize that she was not his mother. He sighed softly and began to drift off again. Faye pressed the pills to his lips and urged him to drink with her other hand. He took the medicine without hesitation, still too groggy to recognize the potential threat. When Carl did finally turn around and get the cloth off his eyes, all he saw was a pile of white pills and three cough drops on the floor of the bare tent.
Lori made her way back to the tent. "Shane didn't need me."
"Oh," Daryl shrugged, "Must've misheard." He walked back into camp nonchalantly. Lori scoffed and ducked back into the tent.
Daryl dodged back into the treeline and found Faye a ways down the ridge hanging her backpack on a low branch. She pulled out the same two pills and grabbed some cough drops.
"Did you help him?" Daryl crouched next to her.
"Yes, but we must do the last one quick. The boy knows someone else helped him, and he is aware enough to tell his mother." She stood, armed with enough antibiotics to destroy a bacterial ecosystem.
Daryl nodded, "I'll just say I found some beer or somethin'. That'll get her deadbeat dad out of the way. But the girl's mom isn't going to leave her alone."
"She is already asleep, I think," Faye squinted at the tent, "I can see two outlines lying down, and one big one sitting down drinking something."
Daryl scoffed, "Yeah. That'd be him. I'll get him."
Faye nodded, "Oh, one more thing." She pulled a small jar out of her pocket, "They are sick because of the water. Boiling is not enough to kill all illnesses. Put one of these in each bucket of water to make it a little better."
Daryl took the jar and read the label, and sure enough, it read that they were survival supplements. "Thanks," He tucked the jar into his pocket. Faye nodded and crouched towards the tent, ready to pounce.
He turned and walked to the tent. Once close enough, he whisper shouted, "Hey, Ed. I found a big box of cigars. I got 'em by the trailer if ya wanna call dibs on a couple." Daryl side stepped away from the entrance once he was done.
Almost immediately the tent started to unzip, and Ed came lumbering out. Faye walked up to the tent casually, "What a disappointment," She whispered to Daryl before ducking in quietly. Daryl scoffed, but it could have been a laugh at her deadpan tone.
She cautiously stepped over Carol and sat on her heels next to Sophia, who was panting with a heavy fever. She placed the back of her hand on the girl's forehead, and sure enough, she was burning up. The girl woke up, groggy.
"Who're you?", the small girl slurred. Faye helped her sit up gently.
"I'm a fairy," She whispered, "before all of this I was a tooth fairy, but now I help children get better when they are sick."
"Really?" Sophia's eyes widened in wonder. She was so preoccupied she didn't even react to the medicine Faye pressed to her lips and the water that followed soon after. She took it easily with drooping eyelids.
"Really," Faye lowered her back into her sleeping bag, "Go back to sleep, okay? You're going to feel a lot better tomorrow." She brushed a strand of hair out of Sophia's face and stood quietly.
The blonde girl blinked her eyes closed slowly and fell back asleep. Faye stepped back over Carol's body and was almost back out the of the tent when Ed's booming voice rang through the camp, "DIXON!"
Carol jumped awake at the shout and saw Faye's unfamiliar form in her tent doorway. She let out a long, high, alarming scream. This alerted the rest of the camp and chaos broke out.
"CAROL!!" Shane and T-Dog were sprinting towards her tent carrying rifles. Faye shoved the flap aside and saw them coming. She glanced at Daryl, who stood not two feet from her, and turned back towards the forest. She sprinted down the line of tents, hoping to escape back into the safety of the trees. Daryl was waving his arms and shouting for them to "DON'T SHOOT!! DON'T SHOOT!", but the two paid him no mind. Shane stopped running and took aim at her retreating form.
Daryl pushed the gun barrel down before he could take the shot, "Don't you hear me!? I said 'don't shoot'!!" Shane wrenched the rifle away from his grasp.
Faye had tried to slide back into the trees, but found herself blocked by who she would later know as Merle. The larger man took a hold of her arm and pulled her up to his eye level, "Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?" His breath smelled of whiskey and cigarettes, which made Faye gag.
She tried to yank her arm back to score a hit at his face, but he caught her other wrist and spun her so her back was to him and her wrists were secured in his grasp. Faye wriggled a little and shifted her shoulders. She launched her legs into the air and rolled over his back, twisting her legs around the back of his head and bent backwards, pulling him to the ground with her. The onlookers were startled at her display of acrobatics, but didn't drop their aim.
He grunted at the impact and immediately tried to grasp her foot. She rolled away from him and stood from a crouch. Faye glanced at Daryl, who was watching from next to Shane, like she was trying to warn him that she was losing her patience. The former officer snatched his gun back up to aim at her once he recovered from his own shock. The rest of the adults in camp had emerged from their tents at the first shout and stood on the sidelines watching the conflict.
Faye eyed the gun and slowly raised her hands, palms forward in clear surrender. Her eyes looked malicious, however, and Daryl knew she was about to make a move.
"Faye..." Daryl put himself in front of her but not in the line of fire, "he'll understand. Just stop."
"You know her?!" Lori screeched from the edge of camp.
"She's a doctor!" Daryl had never spoken as loud as he did right then in front of any camp members. "She wanted to help the kids."
"You gave her access to our children?!" Shane was facing Daryl, the rifle forgotten in his hands.
The shouts of outrage were interrupted when Merle tackled Faye back to the ground. He pinned her arms across her chest. She tried to knee him in the groin but he kneeled on her thighs, trapping her. She grunted and let her head fall back to the ground in defeat.
"Who are you?" Shane was back, standing over her pinned body, "Why are you here?"
Faye glared up at him and only gave a huff of frustration in response. A small voice spoke up from by the tents, "She's a fairy..." All eyes turned to the small girl. Sophia rubbed her eyes and carefully stepped out of the tent, a little wobbly but upright. Carol jumped to help her and hold her close.
"Sophia baby what are you doing out of bed?! You're sick!" Carol began to fuss over her dutifully. But Sophia just shook her head, "I feel a bit better now, Mommy. She helped me." Eyes once again returned to the felled woman, who still hadn't spoken.
"Mama why are they hurting her?" The voice came from the little Morales girl. She stumbled a bit and was still a bit pale, but she was walking and moving, more than she had done all week. "She helped us. And gave us cough drops." The girl held out her hand to display the three hard medicines.
"Mom, what's going on?" Now Carl was awake, crawling out of the tent and rubbing his own eyes.
Lori knelt next to him and put a hand to his forehead, sighing in relief and hugging him when she felt that his fever had reduced.
Faye took advantage of the distraction and got an elbow free to bring it across Merle's eye bone. His grip loosened and she wrenched her arms free. She pulled his head down to her's and delivered a hard headbutt to his nose. He howled and drew back on instinct, giving Faye a chance to roll out from under him. She launched to her feet and ran straight ahead of her, towards the edge of the quarry.
Shane aimed his gun at her quickly, but Daryl intervened by pushing the rifle to the ground with a sharp, "NO!" The shot fired into the soil harmlessly and Faye leaped off the edge of the cliff.
Everyone close scrambled to the edge and looked down into the dark water and saw...nothing. There were no ripples or sign of her hitting the water, nor any trace that she was even in the camp.
"She just...disappeared..." Jackie spoke quietly, but everyone heard her.
"Yeah," Daryl sighed, "She does that." And this time he knew she was gone for good.
Faye had been wandering the area a few miles outside the city for days now. She had come across a small town, only a few buildings in size, towards the end of the day. She decided to take refuge in a bar for the night , and hopefully move into an abandoned farmhouse to establish a more permanent base in the morning.
She pushed one of the large doors open and coughed at the dust. She left the door open and slowly walked towards the back of the dining area and behind the bar. The sun cast dusty shadows over the chairs and tables, illuminating what was left of the bar.
Faye dropped her bag behind the bar and sat on a bar stool. She sighed and rested her head in her arms, finding a moment of solace from the exhausting weeks she's had. A creak sounded from the porch outside, and she hopped off the bar stool and pulled out one of her daggers.
An old man with a snow white beard and a shirt that was too clean for him to be surviving on his own stepped into the doorway. He eyed the knife and held up his hands in surrender. Faye saw that he was unarmed, but didn't lower her weapon.
"How many of you are there?" She spoke in a rough and demanding voice.
"I'm alone," He responded. Faye could tell he wasn't lying and slowly lowered her knife, but not her guard.
"Why are you here?" She moved around the counter so she was standing behind the bar.
"I just need a drink." He sat at the same bar stool she had been sitting in moments before.
Faye nodded and took down a glass, "Rough day?" She poured him three fingers worth.
"Rough past few months, if you ask me," He accepted the glass and took a long gulp.
Faye nodded, "I understand," She rested her elbows on the counter. "What's your name?"
"Hershel," He held his empty glass out to her. She poured him another three fingers. "And yours is...?"
"Faye."
"Lovely name."
"Thank you."
They sat in comfortable silence while Hershel drank, this time slower. The sunlight grew dimmer and dimmer as the evening stretched on. Faye took out one of her knives and started to carve patterns and foreign words into the tabletop. "You should be headed back soon. It's getting dark."
Hershel scoffed, "I don't need to head back yet. They probably just noticed I was gone."
The sound of rapid footsteps marching up the steps had Faye drawing her second knife and holding it above her head, ready to throw. The door burst open to reveal two men, both armed with guns aimed at Faye. Hershel spun in his chair leisurely and waved his hand, "Relax, boys. She's a friend."
The two men slowly lowered their weapons, and Faye lowered hers once they were down. She placed one knife on the bar in front of her and pulled out two more glasses, "Well, Hershel it looks like you're more important than you think." She slid a glass towards the Asian, then the taller white man.
The two took in her rugged appearance, army coat, and smudged eye paint. The white one approached first and held out and hand, "Rick," She looked down at his hand, marveling internally at how clean it was.
"Faye," She grasped his hand firmly and shook. When he pulled it back, his tanned skin was significantly darker with the dirt from hers. She looked to the Asian seated at the end of the bar. He nodded her way nervously, "Glenn." She nodded in return.
"Can we have a second with Hershel here?" Rick asked, moving next to the man. Faye narrowed her eyes and leaned next to the older man's ear, "Are you safe with them? I can help if you need it."
He shook his head somberly, "I'm safe with them. Well," He gulped down the last of whiskey in his glass, "as safe as anyone can be nowadays, I guess."
Faye nodded and hefted her bag back up from behind the counter. She glanced at each of the men's stony faces before she retreated to the back room.
She began to pull her pack apart to prepare for sleep. She had just gotten her toothbrush out when the door opened again and a loud voice spoke up, "Well look at that, Tony! They are alive!"
Great.
Faye moved around the hall leading back to the bar, hunched over with one throwing knife in her left hand and a long serrated blade in her right. She heard tensions rise and her gaze fell on a portly man readying his shotgun to fire. The other man who was out of sight was still talking loudly. About how he'll take their farm or some shit.
She saw Glenn flinch his gun up after a loud noise echoed in the small space. The large one jerked his gun up to aim at Hershel, and Faye acted. She launched off the ground and onto the counter top, then onto his back. He fired his gun in shock, but her disturbance was enough to throw off his aim so he didn't hit anyone. She tightened her legs and raised her bigger knife to stab the side of his neck. He dropped the gun and gurgled, clutching at his throat in vain. Faye yanked the blade out as he fell to his knees, then rolled off of him into a crouch. He twitched and then stilled. Faye stood slowly, not even breathing hard after the struggle. She flicked a few drops of blood off of her knife casually and turned to face the men.
Rick was the only one who didn't look absolutely shell shocked. Rather, his brows were raised in interest and surprise. Glenn and Hershel looked horrified at the two dead bodies around them and the man she guessed Rick killed. Hershel was staring at her like he just found out his youngest daughter had a secret tattoo.
Faye waved her bloody knife at the dead man, "What? He was going to shoot an old man. It's not right." She snapped.
Glenn nodded quickly, like he was afraid to disagree with her actions. Hershel looked away, and Rick just nodded. "We should get back," He holstered his weapon.
Faye mumbled, "Not even a thank you..." Then drew her knife and said normally, "I'll change buildings for the night to avoid any others." Glenn opened his mouth, but was interrupted by the sound of a car pulling up.
The four ducked below the sight lines of the window. Rick drew his gun again and slid against the door. Faye stayed behind a table and picked up Tony's shotgun to aim over the top of the wood and through the window. Glenn and Hershel had crawled next to Rick by the door and mimicked his position.
Faye tuned out the conversation the men outside were having. She was ready to fire at the first sign of danger, and saw it when Rick called through the door, "They drew on us!"
Silence.
Faye took a deep breath in, then out to slow her heartbeat. It was about to get ugly.
Faye found herself leading Glenn down the stairs to the back of the bar, holding the shotgun aloft and keeping her steps quiet. Glenn however tripped behind her and knocked a jar on a shelf next to them onto the floor. It shattered loudly and Faye whipped her head around to glare at the taller man. Her war paint made her look that much more intimidating.
Glenn whispered a short "Sorry," and Faye rolled her eyes.
The knob on the door ahead of them began to turn slowly with small clicks. Faye aimed the gun at the window and fired once. The door flew open with the newly shot body weighing on it, dead.
Faye cocked the gun and descended the steps. Glenn gulped audibly and followed. Faye stopped next to the body to check for life and pull his gun from underneath him while Glenn wandered past her to glance out of the doorway.
The radio on the man's belt crackled and she heard a gruff voice, "I've got one in my sights in the back." Faye's eyes widened and she shot to her feet. A different voice responded, "Take him out." A gunshot rang out not a moment after.
Faye leaped to her feet and took a long stride to stand in front of Glenn and grasp his shoulders. She pulled him back into the bar roughly as the shot rang out. They both collapsed next to each other through the doorway. Glenn lay staring at the ceiling above him panting for a few heartbeats.
"Oh my god..." He sat up with a jerk, "You just saved my life!" His gaze dropped to the woman next to him and widened in shock and fear.
Faye laid on her stomach, eyes screwed shut in pain and breathing through her teeth painfully. Across her shoulders, blood seeped through the shredded army coat she wore, turning the original sandy brown dark red.
Hershel joined them in the cellar, he immediately rushed to Faye's side and felt her pulse. "I can save her, but we need to get her back within the hour."
Glenn nodded quickly and stood, "Where's Rick?"
"Here," the sheriff ran down the steps and paused to glance at Faye, shocked, then to Glenn. "Help me get her up. Hershel," He handed a pistol to the man, "cover us."
Hershel moved outside, gun up. He looked outside slowly, then spun from the doorway and fired. The man descending the hill dropped and howled in pain at his blown knee. Not long after walkers shambled from the trees behind him, drawn by the screaming and the gun shots.
Hershel raised his gun to help, but Rick shoved the barrel down, "We can't! Just go!" He hefted Faye's arm on his shoulder and she grunted in pain.
They made it as far as the street before stopping to duck behind the wall of the bar. Faye's head lolled back, her neck speckled with blood. Whether it was her's or Tony's was unclear. She cracked open an eye and saw Glenn already looking down on her with worry. "You know...I never did hear a thank you..." Her voice was slurred and she winced when she inhaled.
"Thank you. Thank you so much...!" Glenn picked up her hand, "Now don't die so I can make it up to you."
"No promises..." she slipped back into unconsciousness.
Rick gave the all clear and they hauled her up unceremoniously and dragged her over to their car. They pushed her across the backseat so she was laying on her stomach, and Hershel picked up her head to lay on his lap so her injury wouldn't strain.
Glenn and Rick climbed into the front seats and Rick floored it out of the town before the other men could get back to their car.