my tears ricochet

Chapter Fifty Five

"Oh, you know anyone comes through that door and I'll pop 'em," Oscar said wearily, holding his hand out for the pistol. "We both know I'm a good shot."

He had once proven his aim in the very same heartbeat when the man picked where his loyalties fell. Daryl's fingers brushed against his hand as he gave the gun over and he tried to hide his cringe when he felt the hot skin, that telltale fever burning straight through Oscar. "We can give you some meds, keep it manageable."

"Save 'em. Don't need them, don't want them," Oscar said, checking the safety. "I'm good now."

Ivy was sitting crosslegged on the floor with her back against the couch. She glared at the door, eyes bright from the two candles flickering nearby on the table. The switchblade rested in her good hand and she fiddled with it, flicking out the blade and shutting it like the nervous tick of a clock.

"On the bright side, man. I wasn't made for this world," his mouth stretched out into a smile. "Ain't so bad going out."

"Don't. Don't talk like that."

"I knew it, knew it when that fence went down. Missed out on the bad things when they happened. Wasn't prepared for the leftover bits."

Daryl had so few people that he considered as friends. All of the old guys he hung around with and drifted through life were long gone, bitten down into hollowed memories. The guys from the shop had blown their brains out when the city first started going down the drain, a joint package of friendship to stave off what was coming around the bend. One of the men he had known through school had died overseas in a uniform, and two other loose acquaintances drank themselves away the minute they got out of uniform.

Now this family was everything he had left. And Oscar was slowly easing away, a current of the ocean, receding a little bit more each second.

"I really liked being a person again. Not just the guy with a record. Y'know? It was nice. Kinda thing my mom would've wanted for me. Y'all showed up and it wasn't bad."

Rick started speaking from outside the room and Daryl gave Oscar a look, judging his fevered expression and hands that shook slightly. Beth crept through the door and took her own place on the floor beside Ivy, their knees pressed together tight. "Hey, you keep an ear out?" He asked her, watching as she settled her gun on her lap.

"Yeah, I got it," she smiled weakly, not entirely convincing. "I got this side."

"... think they're in control," Rick said and Daryl crept beyond the room, listening. "We're in here and they could be anywhere. But we know exactly where they are."

"Plan's got stones, I'll give you that."

They were seated around the remains of their dinner, cold scraps unrecognizable from the once warm space. Abraham's body was turned away slightly from Rick but he had settled, comfortable with a bargain struck.

"Make our move before they do," Glenn agreed, head jerking as he nodded.

"They're not counting on us thinking straight," Tara explained, pulling her shoulders back slightly as she tried to banish her nerves. "We do this, they won't expect it."

Rosita fidgeted, fingers playing with the cuff of her sleeve. "Are we? I'm just making sure. It's a big play. Lot of factors depending on us pulling it off."

The kids were depending on it. Daryl knew it, the entire room felt it. But Rick's arrogance flashed, white hot beneath a man's skin. "Remember what these people are capable of."

"I'll stay with Oscar," Carol volunteered. "Keep one shooter per room. Tyreese can take the other."

The man seemed settled by the prospect of sticking behind with the others. His body seemed capable of such violence and yet Tyreese was so uncomfortable with it when not caught in a blind rage. He was a different man in the aftermath of his grief, worn down into fragments of a person trying not to consume the poison of the world. "Alright, I can do that."