THE DIXON TWINS KNEW DISAPPOINTMENT. It greets them like an old friend. A welcomed intruder into their lives in which they have learned to live. So when their father stormed into their shared room on the day the world ended, telling them to pack the...
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Eavesdropping had become a second habit to Ace growing up.
He knew how to be sneaky—which floorboards creaked under his feet and which didn't, how to open and close a door without any knowing—and he knew when to shut up and listen. So when Officer Friendly declared he was going back into the city for Merle, it didn't surprise him. Hell, Ace thought he was closer to being an idiot for entertaining the idea. They would be going back for a corpse.
Except Ace knew that if there was a God, He wouldn't be making it this easy for him.
Despite every odd against him, Merle was alive. Ace knew it. "He's a cockroach," Finch had told him before they left for the city, "You won't be able to avoid him."
Ace had shrugged. He hadn't been aware of what was planned for them that day. "I'm sure I'll manage."
Merle is a survivalist, Ace reminded himself, He's got enough self-preservation to take down an army. If T-Dog's lock had held up then there was no reason for Ace to not entertain the possibility of Merle making it out of there alive, all he had to do before they went back for him was keep his mouth shut in order not to attract any more walkers.
Rick had every intention of going into that city to bring Merle back to camp. And Daryl had every intention in following him.
And Ace had every reason to chase after that adventure too.
"—Could you throw me a bone here, man?" Shane's voice grew louder as he and Rick made their way back from the tents. No doubt arguing over the mission. Shane always hated Merle—everyone hated Merle. "Could you just tell me why? Why would you risk your life for a douchebag like Merle Dixon?"
"Hey! Choose your words more carefully."
Shane barely glanced over at Daryl. "I did. Douchebag's what I meant. Merle Dixon wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst."
"What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me," Rick stated and it made Ace roll his eyes. Sheriff Woody still clung to his morals over survival after waking up from a three month coma it seemed. "I can't let a man die of thirst, me. Thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything left to die, let alone a human being."
"So, you and Daryl, that's your big plan?" Lori questioned him, leaning against the RV underneath the shade.
Daryl scoffed. "And ma' boy over here."
Lori gaped, affronted. "He's a child!"
"Old enough!" Ace protested. Those words Merle had told him throughout his childhood had stuck somehow—he was sixteen, almost an adult . . . almost grown. "Merle's . . . Merle's family. I'm going."
"You just got back."
Ace whirled around to face his sister, who stared at him with a defeated look. "Dude, it's Merle," Ace reminded her.
