I stole two very famous lines and I regret nothing.
setting: episode 15 "This Sorrowful Life"
Chapter 53 - Massacre
The first thing Connor noticed when he finally woke up again was that it was way too hot inside this room. His dark grey shirt stuck to his back and was almost black because it was so soaked with sweat and some blood. He could still feel the constant thumping in his shoulder right where he had managed to split his stitches, but he was used to pain by now, especially since his head hurt way more than his shoulder right now. The Irishman groaned and rubbed his face with his healthy hand as he tried to remember what the fuck had happened to him.
The room he was in stank like hell, but he was lying on a bed that was actually rather comfortable compared to the one he usually slept in back at the prison. It took him a moment to focus and he wondered where Daryl was, but when he remembered he sat up with one swift and abrupt movement, which made everything spin and his shoulder ache like hell. He rubbed it with an annoyed grunt and tried to get out of bed, stumbling towards the wooden motel door.
Right. Daryl. Daryl's brother.
That fucker Merle had knocked him out and walked off on his own to execute his plan and kill the Governor. He didn't know how much time had passed since Merle had knocked him out, but he just knew that couldn't waste any more time. No matter how much he hated that bastard, Merle was his friend's brother and he was in some serious danger right now. No one could fight an unknown amount of enemies on their own, no matter how invincible they looked. That asshole would most certainly get himself killed if Connor did not manage to get to the farm in time, and the Irishman cursed himself for taking the redneck with him in the first place.
It wasn't like he would mourn Merle's death, but if the man got killed today then it would be all his fault, and he was pretty sure that Daryl would never forgive him that. When Connor finally reached the door he tried to open it, but it would not give in. It wasn't locked, he could tell that simply because he had managed to open it a tiny bit, but something still blocked his way, made it impossible for him to open this door. The blonde cursed and started kicking and shoving at it but without any luck. He then made his way over to the window right next to the door, only to curse once more because there were bars in front of it.
"What the actual fuck?!" he exclaimed and tried to have a look outside to see what was blocking the door. He rolled his eyes when he saw that Merle had knocked the vending machine over, which had been standing right next to the door. Fucking brilliant. Connor headed for the door once more and started kicking and cursing all the way through.
"Ye fuckin moron yer gonna get yer ass killed You! Fucking! Hick!" Connor yelled with each kick until a bloody hand with long fingernails moved through the slid. It startled him and made him stumble backwards. He could hear them now, a whole bunch of walkers that seemed to be stumbling in the direction of the door. Some of them already seemed to be right in front of it, tearing at the wood, trying to get in. Connor supposed that they didn't really want to attack him, they were just getting attracted by the noise he was making. At least he prayed to god that these dead fucks weren't here to come and get him.
He could hear the creaking of the door as more and more walkers were grabbing the wood and pulling pulling pulling, to a point where it actually freaked him out a bit. It got darker inside the room because some of the walkers were blocking the window and tried to get in through there, grabbing and yanking at the bars that shielded it from the outside. Connor slowly walked backwards and tried not to panic, which was actually quite hard to do now. The window and the door were his only way out, behind him there was just a wall.
Alright, relax. They're ain't gonna attack you. Yer gonna be fine. They already bit ye twice. A whole bunch of them just walked past ye and even lay on top of you without ripping yer throat out, he tried to calm himself down inside his head and turned to his left and right, trying to find anything he could use to defend himself. He then noticed the door to the bathroom and ran for it. When he opened the door he almost gagged because a terrible stench hit him right in the face. A corpse was lying there, leaned against the wall by the toilet. The man had a gun in his one hand and a picture of a pretty woman in the other. He had a massive hole in the back of his head and there were blood splatters all over the tiles behind him, suggesting that he had shot himself.
Connor looked at the man for a moment, ignoring all the banging and creaking which was coming from the other room. It really looked like the man had committed suicide in here, and for some reason that made the Irishman really sad. Because he could have been just like that man a couple of months ago, lying on the ground with a hole in his head in some house or under a tree, because during the first couple of months after Murphy's death he had been thinking about shooting himself every single night and day. The picture made it only worse because he had been just like that, holding on to a memory, staring at the picture of his lost loved one.
The sight made him sad but also glad, because he wasn't the man, because he had managed to get over it, because Daryl had saved him from killing himself and because he wasn't depressed or lonely anymore. Another loud bang snapped him out of his train of thoughts, and he knew that he needed to do something about the horrible situation he was in. He probably wouldn't be alive for much longer if he didn't get his ass out of here soon. He noticed the small window just underneath the ceiling by the bathtub and made his way over there, but after climbing and slipping and nearly getting stuck he came to the conclusion that there was no getting out through there.
"And people are tellin me I should fuckin eat more" he grumbled as he just couldn't fit his chest through the small window.
The banging and creaking of the door, window and wall next door sounded really dangerous now, and Connor took another deep breath, trying not to panic. He climbed out of the bathtub and yanked his hair with his healthy hand, trying to come up with a plan on how to get out of this mess. He then noticed the fire axe which was lying in a puddle of blood close to the body, and after staring at it for several minutes he came to the conclusion that this was the only way.
"Alright. Fuck it" he growled and then knelt down to grab it, feeling its weight and trying to hold it with just one hand, since his left hand was of no use right now.
Merle had let him keep his knife and gun, but that wasn't of much use for this kind of thing. He needed to do this the hard way.
He headed for the main room and saw that the door was still shaking and creaking, and the walkers were making some horrible noise by now. He suspected that there were at least 20 of them standing out there in front of that door, and it almost sounded like they didn't even know what they were here for anyway. They all just kept banging and grabbing because the others were doing it, herd mentality working at its finest. Connor stared at the door and balanced the axe in his healthy hand, and after being hesitant for several minutes he finally made the first move.
"Here we go" he muttered as he struck out, ignoring the pain in his mutilated shoulder when he strained his muscles.
He struck out as wide as he could and then hit the wooden door with all the strength he could gather. He could feel how his loose stitches were cutting his flesh around the wound but decided to blend that out, and soon he was hacking at the door in a steady rhythm. He could almost hear Daryl freak out and call him nuts because of this plan, because he was actually making it easier for the walkers to break in this way. But this was the only way out, and it needed to be done. He kept hacking and hacking until there was a hole in the door, which made it possible for the first walker to look inside. The figure of a dead of old man pressed his bloody face against the hole, snapping and trying to get in. Connor watched the undead and raised both his eyebrows. He needed a break from all the hacking, but he also couldn't hold back the remark that came to his mind when he saw that face look inside the motel room through that hole.
"I swear ta fucking god, if ye say "Here's Johnny" now..." he growled and then chuckled because of his own joke.
He looked at the axe in his hand and smirked even more.
"Ye know what, grandpa?" he asked then and looked at the snapping and bloody walker.
"I just remembered that I'm te one with the axe, which makes me Johnny."
He twirled the axe around and approached the door once more with an evil and pleased smirk.
"Don't worry, Wendy. I'm not gonna hurt ya. I'm just going ta bash yer brains in" he quoted and struck out again, not only hitting the wooden door but also the walker right in the face, crushing his nose and splitting the skull with a disgusting and yet satisfying splash and gush of blood and brain matter.
Daryl was actually glad that they had managed to get back to the prison without a single scratch. He still didn't know what the Governor and Rick had agreed on, and truth was that he knew it was gonna be useless anyway, but they had survived another day, another dangerous situation without getting shot at. He still couldn't stop thinking about what Milton and Martinez had told him, and he couldn't wait to share that information with Connor. He supposed that the people were right, that he needed to get the Irishman away from this whole battle, but it was a tough decision, really.
He didn't want to die and he didn't want Connor to die, which would make a decision to leave pretty simple, except that it wasn't simple at all. He didn't want to betray Rick and the group. He didn't want to leave them to die here. They needed every single hand they could get to protect this prison, a place which they all now considered their home. So they would need to stay here, they would need to fight and risk their lives. And judging by what Martinez had told him it was probably going to happen tomorrow.
Daryl got off his motorbike as soon as he had entered the prison yard and Maggie and Carol had closed the gate to keep the walkers from entering.
They had not even made it away from their vehicles when they saw how Glenn came running for them.
"Rick!" he shouted as Herschel, Rick and Daryl were just about to head for the cell block.
"Rick!" the Korean shouted once more and came to a halt right in front of them.
"We can't find Connor and Merle" he gasped, completely out of breath.
Daryl widened his eyes.
Glenn nodded and tried to catch breath.
"Yeah. Connor's cell is open and we don't know where the hell Merle is either."
Daryl and Rick exchanged worried looks, and then the hunter threw his crossbow over his shoulder and started running.
"Come on, I think I know where Merle's at!"
Glenn was about to come as well, but Daryl stopped him.
"No, not you. Yah probably better off staying away from him for now."
"He wanted to go after you!" Glenn shouted behind them, which made Daryl turn around again so he could look at the Korean.
"And Connor as well " Glenn went on and the hunter pressed his lips together.
He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. This was bad. This was really really bad. But Connor and Merle? He doubted that they really ran off together. He didn't believe that the two of them could be really working together just to get to him. No. Maybe Connor had really run off, but he was pretty sure that Merle was still busy searching for his drugs.
"Let's just see if Merle's still where I last saw 'im look for his stupid crystal."
Daryl and Rick were running through the dark corridors that led back to the laundry room. They didn't come across any walkers, but they also didn't see any new corpses on the ground. Daryl kept praying that he was going to find his brother, and right now he didn't even care if he was going to find him stuffed with drugs or god knows what kind of shit. He just didn't want it to be true that both his brother AND his friend could really be so stupid and leave together.
"You think Merle let Connor out?" Rick asked as they were just about to reach the door that led to the laundry room.
"Nah. Ain't got the keys, and I doubt that Glenn gave 'em to him. Even if he did have the keys, ain't no way he let the leprechaun out. They hate each other way too much to be workin together" Daryl answered with an angry headshake, although it was slowly dawning on him. He kicked the door open and entered the laundry room, but there was absolutely no one in there.
"Merle!" Daryl yelled and had a look around, but it was obvious that his brother wasn't there.
The hunter clenched his fists and frowned angrily.
"Damnit, he was in here just before we left. Been searching the whole place for drugs" the younger Dixon muttered and then looked at Rick, who obviously didn't like the whole thing at all.
"Maybe he went lookin somewhere else" Daryl went on but Rick shook his head and grabbed his gun tighter.
"Daryl, you remember how Connor kept talking about killing the Governor? Merle said the same thing, and now that you were gone he told Glenn that he was going to come after us...I think they both took off."
Daryl chewed on his lower lip and tried to stay calm, but he could already feel how the panic was taking over.
"Shit. Shit shit shit" he hissed and started walking in circles.
He didn't really know what to do. It felt so wrong to be all alone, and he didn't want to lose both his brother and friend on the same day just because of their stupidity. He could feel the anger inside of him grow because they both had ignored his pleadings. He had asked Connor to let him do his thing and trust him, and he had asked Merle to come back and stay with him. And now they were both gone.
"The Governor told me he would let us go if we gave him Michonne" Rick suddenly said and Daryl looked at him in surprise.
"Woodbury would leave us be. No war. No bloodshed, just a simple exchange" the policeman went on and looked Daryl straight in the eye.
"We can't let them screw this up. We need to go after them" he said and was about to leave the room, but then Daryl already reached out and grabbed him by his sleeve.
"You can't track for shit" he protested because he didn't want Rick to be part of this issue at all.
This wasn't about the prison, it was about his family right now. And that was none of the policeman's business.
Rick stopped walking and looked at him.
"Then the both of us."
Daryl shook his head and grabbed his crossbow, ready to go himself.
"No, just me. They're my family."
"We're all family" Rick countered but Daryl kept shaking his head.
"No. This ain't about the prison or you people. It's personal. Besides, even if y'all came with me, ain't no way you gonna achieve shit with 'em. They only listen to me. I said I'd go and I'll go. Plus, we gonna come back here you need to be ready. Your Michonne plan's just a bluff. Their henchman told me when you were busy bargaining with that bastard that they're gonna attack anyway. Probably tomorrow. Guy already prepared 'em."
Rick stared back at him. He was surprised, but it also looked like he knew anyway.
"Don't let anyone come after me. Especially not Glenn and the others. I'll bring 'em back before nightfall" Daryl went on and then left the room to go after his friend and brother as fast as possible.
Connor was fucking exhausted from all the hacking and slashing. It was a freaking good idea how he was handling the walkers, he gave himself that, but it was just too exhausting. He had made a large hole in the door to get only one walker inside at a time, and every time they got too close he killed them with a single hack to their heads. He still wasn't sure if the walkers were really going to attack him or not, which was why he kept striking out before they got too close. But after killing maybe 15 walkers that were slowly piling up on top of the vending machine or somewhere by the door he just couldn't do it anymore.
His shoulder hurt like hell and bled like a bitch because he was overstraining the stitches and just made it worse, but he needed to keep killing, needed to keep hacking just so he could get out of this godforsaken motel room. He needed to go after Merle, make sure that that bastard didn't end up getting killed because once again his plan was going terribly wrong. Connor dropped the axe after a while and was panting so loudly that he feared he was going to suffocate, and just for a second he blamed the fact that he was a fucking chain smoker. His lungs were too fucked for this sort of thing and he knew it, and he just needed a break.
But the walkers knew no such thing as a break. They kept coming, grabbing the hole and stumbling over the vending machine, and soon the Irishman couldn't fight them anymore. He yelped in surprise when the first walker managed to stumble inside his motel room, and although he did manage to shoot him dead another two were already entering, and the blonde soon had to realize that he was going to get overwhelmed.
"No no no no!" he screamed and tried to back off as the walkers kept coming at him.
But he was too exhausted, too dizzy, in too much pain to even really get where he was actually going until his back connected with the wall right next to the bed. The Irishman kept shooting at the walkers but soon ran out of bullets. He knew that he didn't have enough time to reload so he dropped his Beretta and grabbed his knife instead, ready to stab any walker that came too close. Blood was running down his face and soaking his shirt from all the previous hacking with the axe, and the carpet was nothing but a pool of dark red stinking and sticky blood. It was a bloody massacre because there were so many corpses all around him, but somehow they still just kept coming, no matter how many he killed. A female walker came too close to him and he stabbed her forehead, but his hands were so slippery that he lost grip of the knife when the walker dropped to the ground. The next thing Connor tried was to kick and punch his next attackers, but one of the walkers managed to grab him by his wrist and kept coming at him until he shoved the blonde against the wall.
"NO! FUCK OFF!" Connor yelled once more and turned his head as he squeezed his eyes shut because he feared another bite.
All the more did it surprise him when the walker wouldn't do anything like that. The undead still kept coming at him and invaded his personal space, but instead of attacking him the stinking corpse started sniffing on Connor's bloody bandage. He would snarl every once in a while as if he was unsure whether it should attack or not. The Irishman held his breath and stared at the undead with wide eyes as it kept sniffing and sniffing on his neck, his throat, his shoulder his arms. Now that the blonde had stopped hacking and screaming he noticed that the walkers were slowly calming down.
They were staggering around the motel room as if they were searching for something, a victim, anything to eat, and soon he could hear the disgusting ripping and smacking of lips that was coming from the bathroom. Some of them had obviously started eating the man who had shot himself, now that there didn't seem to be any fresh meat for them inside this room. They still seemed to register Connor as one of them which was why they hadn't buried their teeth in his throat yet.
And once the Irishman realized that he decided to be a quiet as possible. He stared at the walker that was pressing him against the wall and shoved him away, and once again he was quite surprised when the undead wouldn't attack him again. He just stumbled away and then headed for the bathroom as well. Connor just stood there, baffled, as he watched the couple of more walkers that entered the motel room. A few of them would look at him with their terrifying big and empty swollen yellow eyes, but most of them were heading right for their other herd members in the bathroom. There was a disgusting feast going on right there, and the Irishman figured that this was his chance to get out of this mess.
He still decided to imitate the walkers just to make sure he was going to get past them without them growing suspicious. He even did the limping and dragging his feet part as he went for all the weapons he had dropped. He then stumbled towards the broken door. Although he was still exhausted and even terrified because of all the mess and danger he couldn't fight the surprised and smug smile that broke through. Just for once in his life he seemed to have some serious fucking luck ever since the apocalypse had happened.