In The End | Daryl Dixon

Chapter 13

"Don't you leave us behind."

Erica

Daryl was angry at us for some reason that remained unfathomable to me. Had I chopped of Merle's hand and left it on the roof of an outlet store? No, absolutely had not. I could understand his overall rage. Honestly, if I'd found Sam or Dean's hand up here, I wouldn't be all that happy either. Not that either one of them would dumb enough to actually sever their entire hand just to get out of a dinky set of handcuffs. Merle Dixon just so happens to have an IQ lower than the ninth circle of hell itself.

"God, what is that smell?!" Glenn coughed a little. We were following the trail of blood Merle'd oh-so-kindly left for us. We were in some sort of office building of sorts. Merle had managed to take out a few walkers out single handed while bleeding out. I'd have been impressed if I weren't so disgusted by the smell. 

"Burning flesh." I answered the former pizza boy nonchalantly as we stepped into what looked like the employees lounge. Out eyes fell on the the gas-top stove, which was most definitely on. There was an old fashioned iron next to it, caked in burnt skin. "Oh."

"I don't even wanna know how you know what that smells like." T-dog shook his head as Rick picked up the iron to examine it. I didn't go near the thing. Who knows how many diseases Merle has accumulated over his many, many years of living. If Rick gets some sort of STD because he accidentally scratched his face after touching that filthy thing, I'm going to laugh.

"He cauterized the stump." Rick said numbly, setting it back down. Glenn looked like he was going to be sick, but then again, when does he not? I'm starting to believe that's his default face these days. 

"Tol' you he was tough. Ain't nobody can kill Merle but Merle." Daryl sounded proud of his older brother. I'd be proud too if it were Sam or Dean. Merle may be an idiot who unnecessarily cut off his own hand, but he still managed to drag himself off that roof. Not to mention he burned his stump closed. I'm surprised we didn't find his passed out in here. I guess he's too stubborn to pass out from blood loss.

"I wouldn't take that on faith. Man's lost a lot of blood." Rick noted as Daryl continued, determined to find his missing kin.

"That didn't stop him from busting out of this death trap." I said. My statement was met with a noise of agreement from Daryl. Glad to see someone appreciates my flawless wit and my tendency to say things without thinking about them first.

"He left the building?" Glenn asked in a hushed tone as Daryl observed the broken window. I squinted. How had a man Merle's size fit through that small a space? He must be covered in broken glass by now. "Why the hell would he do that?!"

"Why wouldn't he? He's out there alone as far as he knows, doing what he's go to do." Daryl leaned away from the window so Rick could take a look. Daryl continued. "Survivin'."

"You call that surviving?" T-dog's eyebrows shot up in question. "Just wandering out in the streets, maybe passing out? What are his odds out there?"

"Well, if that isn't surviving, I'm really not sure what is." I admitted, peeking out the window. I know I tested Merle with holy water, but maybe there's a chance he's not a demon and just some other odd, terrifying monster. One that can chop off their hand and break through a window after freeing a couple of tortured souls from their rotting shells.

"She's right. He ain't no worse off out there than he was bein' handcuffed to the damn roof and left to rot by you sorry pricks." He said it more to T-dog and Rick than anyone else, leaving Glenn and I to stand awkwardly and stare at the angry redneck.