Fight for Your Blood

Daryl remembers the day he pedaled home on his bike to find his house up in flames. He remembers how he just knew that his mom went and set herself on fire. He remembers how the firefighters, the neighbors, hell, it seemed like everyone in the damn town just stared at him. But most of all, he remembers his baby sister screaming his name. He remembers running to her, holding her, because he knew they were all each other had left in this world. And he will never forget that.

20 years later

"Look, Merle, I'll just go with you. I'm fine, really!" I said, trying to make Merle understand.

He shook his head. "You've been up all night, Lily, you're dead on yer feet. You're just gonna slow me down. Come on now, you stay in this tree and paint your fingernails or do some girly shit like that. Daryl will be back soon. I gotta go hunt."

I shook my head, stubborn as always. "I ain't stayin' here alone –" Merle cut me off, abruptly shoving me against the tree trunk.

"Kid, you're wearin' on my last nerve. Now get in that fuckin' tree before I lose my shit!" I pushed Merle away and rubbed at my shoulder. I hated when he got this way. He just needed another hit of whatever drug he was currently hooked on. I knew that's what he was sneaking away to do.

"I'm not a kid," I said, climbing into the tree as Merle watched. "I'm 22 fucking years old, not some kid you can push around."

Merle threw his hands up in the air and smiled as soon as I found a comfortable branch. "See," He said, "You do what I say, we'll all be fine. Wait for Darlyna and try not to get yerself killed, Lily Bird." I crossed my arms over my chest and watched him walk away. God sometimes I just couldn't stand my oldest brother. He was crass, violent, and racist, but he was one of the two people I had left in my life.

I leaned my head back against the tree. Merle was right, even though I hated to admit it. I was dead on my feet. I had taken watch last night so Daryl could finally get some sleep. We had been trekking through the woods for weeks now, ever since the world went to shit, and I could tell the long nights keeping watch for walkers were wearing on all of us.

I was sitting on the widest branch I could get to and I crossed my legs in front of me. My eyes were drawn to the crisscrossing gashes on my knees and shins. I traced my finger over the healing gash on my left knee, my thoughts drifting back to the night I got it. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, remembering that horrible night…

"Hey sugar!" I looked up from the table I was clearing. That asshole better not be talking to me. "Hey you, waitress!" He was definitely talking to me. I looked across the bar to find the guy. Of course. Typical redneck with his camo hat, farmers tan, and cutoff flannel shirt. Once he saw that he had my attention, he flagged me over with an empty glass in his beefy hand. "We need another round over here! Hustle up!"

Refraining from slamming my rag on the table, I stuffed it in my back pocket and stormed over to the bar to get their refills. My boss Paul, who was also the bartender, looked up at me when he saw me come up to the bar. "How's it going tonight, Lily?"

"You know how much I just love our customers, Paul! Five Bud Lights, by the way for the assholes in the corner." Paul just nodded and set the beers on a tray in front of me. "Wanna look the other way while I spit in em'?" I asked, winking.

Paul looked at me, concerned. "They better not be touchin' you. After last week –" I put my hand up.

"Paul, no one's gonna touch me in this town after what my brothers did to that guy that slapped my ass last week. Relax," I said, laughing.

Paul smiled knowingly. "Yeah, I wouldn't mess with Daryl and Merle. Especially Merle, that dude's got a crazy side to him." I smiled and nodded in agreement. I hustled the beers over to the guys, not wanting to make them wait any longer. I was already pretty sure I wouldn't be getting a tip.

After all my tables seemed okay, I went back to my task of cleaning the empty tables. It was nearing the end of the night and I was hoping to get off work at a decent time so I didn't have to make Daryl wait. I wouldn't be dependent on my brother to drive my ass around if my stupid car hadn't broken down this morning, but that was the way things were going for me. Figures.

For the past two years since I moved out of my dad's house I had been trying to make it on my own, but I still felt strangely dependent on my older brothers. Our dad had died about 5 years ago, and ever since that whole ordeal had been over I had been trying to make a new life for myself. I wanted to forget everything about the old one. Merle got me my job, Daryl's always checking up on me, and now I was being driven around town in Daryl's pick-up like a little kid. I shook the thoughts of my past out of my head and went back to the menial task of cleaning tables, filling salt shakers, and putting sugar packets out.

The bar thinned out quickly, and by twelve thirty it was empty. "Hey, Lily?" Paul called from the kitchen. "Let's close early tonight, just finish up cutting the lemons for tomorrow and we can head out."

"I'm on it!" I told Paul, skipping to the counter. I was thrilled to get out of bar early for once. I couldn't wait to get out of my smelly clothes and relax. After a long night at the bar I always felt like the smell of stale beer and Jack Daniels just lingered on me. I was already on my third lemon when I heard the sound of the door opening. "Shit." I said under my breath, cursing myself for not locking the door. "We're closed." I said, not even bothering to look up from my cutting board. I heard the person growl and I looked up. Who the fuck would be growling like that?

A man who was walking like he was drunk, almost shuffling, was coming towards me. He looked batshit crazy and I instantly stood up straighter. "Hey buddy, we're closed, you'll have to come back tomorrow." I said, using my no nonsense tone. The man just stared at me with dead eyes and growled some more. What was this guy's problem? "Look dude, are you even listening?" I put my hands on my hips, getting annoyed. The guy just kept coming, never saying a word, just moaning in a creepy way.

As soon as he reached the bar, he reached for me over the counter. I grew up surrounded by hillbillies, I know how to handle myself around guys that get in my face, but something about this guy's greyish skin, yellow eyes, and rotting smell genuinely scared me. I backed up into the bottles behind me and a couple of them fell off the shelf, smashing to the floor at my feet.

"Lily, what the hell are you doing back –" Paul said, rounding the corner into the bar area. He stopped when he saw the creep reaching for me over the bar. "Hey!" He shouted. At his shout, the guy shuffled towards Paul. "We're closed, asshole. Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops." The guy kept walking towards Paul, like he couldn't hear him. "Alright, fine. I'll show you the way out." Paul said, taking a threatening step towards the guy.

All of the sudden my gut was telling me there was something very wrong with this man. He wasn't just crazy, he was dangerous. "Paul, wait –" I started to say, but Paul had already grabbed the guy's arm.

I will never forget what happened next for as long as I live. The image is absolutely seared into my memory. As Paul pulled the guy towards the door, the creep sunk his teeth into Paul's neck and just fucking ripped his throat out. I immediately pressed my hand to my mouth so I wouldn't scream and I dropped to my knees behind the bar. Partly because I wanted to hide from this crazy cannibal, and party because my legs wouldn't hold me up anymore. I gasped as the glass from the shattered bottles bit into my legs.

All I could hear were gurgling noises, probably from Paul, and the sound of ripping flesh. I needed to get the fuck out of there. I crawled completely under the bar and that's when I saw it. Paul's shotgun. With shaking hands, I reached for the gun. I wasn't going to cower under this bar and wait for that guy to eat me. I was a Dixon, dammit, and I would kill this guy before he killed me. The weight told me it was fully loaded and I readied it to shoot before I stood up.

The creep had his back to me since he was bent over Paul's body, just fucking chowing down. I didn't want to take any chances so I aimed for his head and pulled the trigger. The back of his head exploded and what was left of his body toppled onto Paul. I gasped and turned around, not wanting to look at the disgusting scene before me. I caught sight of myself in the big mirror behind the bar and it seemed like time slowed down as I stared back at my reflection. My long, dirty blonde hair was falling out of my ponytail around my face and my blue eyes stared back at me in shock. What have I done? I thought.

I came out of my trance when I heard the front door bang open. I whipped around to see who it was. "What the fuck was that? I heard a gun – " It was Daryl. He stopped when he saw the bodies. I still stood behind the bar, I couldn't bring myself to move from my spot. Daryl looked at me, "You okay?" He asked.

I shook my head and Daryl walked towards me. He slowly walked behind the bar and his face fell. "Jesus, Lil what the hell happened? You're bleedin' all over the place."

I looked down. "I am?" I asked, stupidly. He was right. My knees and shins were streaked with blood. "It was the glass." I said, finally realizing what happened. The shock of the situation seemed to be melting away with Daryl's presence. I took a deep breath. I was safe now. Daryl stared at me blankly. "I broke the bottles when he came after me. Daryl, that guy," I said, pointing at the mess of bodies on the ground, "He bit Paul. He was eating him. I had to kill him, I had no choice. God there was so much blood and the sounds they were making…I didn't know what –" Daryl suddenly pulled me to him in a rare hug.

"Jesus, girl you could have died." I heard him mumble in my ear. Daryl pulled away all too quickly, his usual tough exterior taking over. "Come on," he said, pulling me out of the bar towards the door, his practical side coming out, as usual. "Let's get out of here, call that good for nothin' sheriff and get him down here. Time he did somethin' besides arrest Merle for once." I stumbled after Daryl, into his truck. He started the engine and pressed his phone into my hand.

Daryl peeled out of the parking lot as I dialed 911. The phone just rang and rang on the other end. I waited. Daryl glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. "No one's gonna pick up," I said, giving up. What the hell was going on?

Daryl huffed. "Let's head to my place, see what we can find out on TV." I nodded and stared out the window. Something soft landed in my lap and I looked down to see a rag. I looked at Daryl and he pointed at my feet. "Wipe up that blood on yer legs, I'll find ya somethin' to put on em' at the house." I nodded and bent down to clean off the gashes.

Suddenly and without warning, Daryl slammed on the breaks and my shoulder slammed into the dashboard in front of me as I was thrown out of my seat, completely stunned…

My body jerked and I woke up to the sensation of falling. There was a split second of panic before I crashed to the ground on my back, all the air leaving my body. I gasped on the ground for a couple seconds, assessing the damage. I gingerly sat up and that's when I heard it. The ragged moaning of a walker. Perfect fucking timing. I stood up as quickly as I could and pulled my knife out. Thank god Daryl always made me keep it on me.

I turned around to face the walkers and to my horror there were three of them making their way towards me. I stepped back in shock and that's when shit totally hit the fan. I lost my footing and I found myself tumbling down a steep hill, ass over teacup. I came to an abrupt stop when my left side slammed into a tree at the bottom of the hill. Again, I lay gasping for a few seconds before I sat up, using the tree as support.

I pulled my knees up to my chest and tried to get a handle on my breathing, but I couldn't seem to do anything besides gasp. I pressed my hand to my forehead and it came away red and sticky. My head was bleeding, I was sure I had some cracked ribs, and maybe a broken wrist. I didn't even know where to begin with thinking about everything I had done wrong in the last minute. How did I miss the big fucking hill right behind me? And how did I even fall out of that tree in the first place? I guess I should have known sleeping in a tree was a bad idea, but I did what I could since stupid Merle wasn't watching my back. I silently fumed, gripping my knife with my good hand. I could only imagine how many walkers I was attracting with the blood oozing down my face and all the noise I had just made. I probably should have just ringed the dinner bell, it certainly would have saved me the trouble.

It didn't take long for the walkers to catch up to me. As soon as I heard shuffling on the other side of my tree, I huffed and hastily pulled my long hair back into a ponytail, getting ready to face whatever was coming. I bet those same fucking walkers were back. I heard their disgusting moaning again. I still clutched the familiar handle of my hunting knife with my good hand, preparing to fight for my life. I slowly stood up and my head briefly swam before everything came back into focus. Stupid head wound. I took a deep breath to steady myself and leapt out from behind the tree.

There were three of them. One was only a few yards away, but the others were further away. I had to work fast or else they would swarm me. I ran at the closest walker, knife at the ready. I stabbed at the flesh on his face, trying to get the eyes, and he pawed at me with his gross dead hands. I'm ashamed to say I screamed a couple times, terrified that I was going to get scratched or bit. Finally, the walker fell, my knife protruding from its eye.

I was gasping and my injuries were pulsating with the beat of my heart, but I yanked the knife out of the dead walker and prepared to fight the other two. They were both grunting, hands stretched towards me, and I had a feeling of pure terror race through me. I instinctively started to run the other way because my odds coming out unscathed against two walkers with nothing but a hunting knife were slim to none. I was in a dead sprint, racing in the other direction when something whizzed by me. I heard a dull thud from behind, and I turned around, chancing a glance at the walkers.

One of them was face down on the ground, a familiar arrow partially sticking out of the back of its head. As I stared, another arrow whizzed dangerously close to my head and I instinctively threw myself to the ground. I watched the arrow hit the other walker right between the eyes and I breathed a sigh of relief as it fell to the ground. My heart was beating out of my chest and it seemed like a good idea to stay on the ground. After a couple seconds, I crawled behind the tree closest to me. I used the tree as support to stand up and I just leaned against it, trying to calm down. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, once again trying to get my heartbeat under control while I waited for Daryl. Not for the first time since this whole end of the world business started, I found myself thinking thank God for Daryl.

I opened my eyes when I heard Daryl run up. He looked frantic. "You bit?" He asked.

I shook my head. "I'm good, just a little shook up." I said, still a little breathless.

He gave me a curt nod. I could see the anger seeping into his face. "What the hell happened?" He asked, then quickly added, "And where the fuck is Merle? You two were 'sposed to stay together till I got back."

I held up my hands, defensive. "Merle made me stay behind, I don't know where the hell he went. I fell out of that stupid tree and wound up rollin' down that hill." Daryl looked at me like I was an idiot and I didn't blame him. He walked over to the dead walkers and pulled the arrows out of their heads. There was a sickening squelching noise that I tried to ignore.

"What the hell are you two losers doin' down there?" Daryl and I both looked up when we heard Merle's voice at the top of the hill.

Daryl rolled his eyes at me and beckoned Merle with an impatient wave of his hand. "Get yer sorry ass down here, you stupid piece of shit!"

Merle tromped down the hill and whistled as soon as he saw my face. "What the hell happened, Lily Bird? Thought you said you weren't a kid, somethin' about bein' able to handle yerself…"

I pushed myself off the tree and shoved Merle. "Shut the fuck up, asshole! Yer the one that made me stay in that damn tree. What the hell did you think would happen, huh? I was already fuckin' half asleep when you just left me!"

Merle threw his hands up. "Aw sure, just blame Ol' Merle, as usual, it's all my fault." He laughed and I saw that his eyes were glazed over. Definitely high on something. Figures.

"I can't even talk to you right now, you're high as a fuckin' kite. Just stay the hell away from me, you stupid junkie!" I said, shoving him away again.

My words wiped the smirk right off of Merle's face and I could tell he was really about to lose it. Apparently Daryl could sense it too. "Shut up! Both of ya, I think I hear somethin'," He said, putting his hand on Merle's chest.

I glared at Merle over Daryl's shoulder, but then Daryl abruptly shoved me to the side while aiming his crossbow in one motion. I hissed in pain when Daryl's arm came into contact with my injured ribs and I doubled over to clutch my side. Now what was going on?

I felt Daryl's hand on my shoulder, forcing me to stand up straight. "Damn herd of walkers. Not goin' back that way, that's fer damn sure…" He paused and looked at me for a second. He seemed to be thinking about something. He huffed then said, "Think you can run? The truck ain't far, maybe a mile up that way." I nodded, not altogether certain I was up to the task, I could barely stand up straight as it was.

Daryl turned to Merle. "I got this, baby brother. Let's get out of here." He said, survival instincts obviously kicking in over the drugs in his system.

We took off and I did my best to match their pace. Merle shouted over his shoulder, "Need me to carry ya, kid?"

"Shut up," I gasped out. I heard him laugh. I didn't think anything about the situation was funny. I felt like I was running a race with a knife sticking in my side. I almost felt like I was going to collapse when I finally saw the road. Daryl's truck was parked a ways up the road and I could almost taste the safety it promised. Unfortunately, the momentary distraction was all it took to send me crashing to the ground. I tripped over a fucking tree root. I landed harshly on my already injured side, knocking all of the wind out of me and for a scary moment I couldn't get any air into my lungs. I looked up towards Daryl and Merle while gasping on the ground like a fish out of water and all I managed to get out was, "Help…" Thankfully Daryl turned back when I fell and gave me a dirty look before he ran back to me. I could feel the blood running down the side of my face from my head wound, and for some reason as I watched him run back to me with that scowl on his face I felt like crying. Pull your shit together! I angrily thought.

"Come on, Lil, I ain't lettin' them get you that easily. Let's go." He pulled me up by my arm and slung it around his shoulders. We managed to stagger/run towards the car for a while, but suddenly a walker stumbled out of the tree line way too close to us for comfort. Daryl stopped and fired a bolt right through its head. He turned back to me, "We gotta move faster or we ain't gonna make it." I didn't even have time to protest before he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder. He started running and I tried my best to stifle my screams. My ribs were painfully jarred with every step he took and I gripped the back of his shirt with all my strength to distract myself.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally stopped and lowered me to the ground. As soon as I stood up, all of the blood drained from my head and I found myself on all fours, either about to pass out or vomit, I couldn't tell. "Come on, get in!" He barked, opening the door and jumping in. He reached down and grabbed my upper arm, hauling me into the car behind him. I noticed Merle was behind the wheel as Daryl reached over me to slam the door. I chanced a glance behind us and I gasped in horror. There were at least twenty walkers gaining on us. Where the hell did they all come from?! Merle floored the gas as soon as the engine roared to life and I watched as the walkers disappeared in the distance.

"What the fuck was that?!" Merle exclaimed, pounding his fist against the steering wheel. I was still trying to keep myself from projectile vomiting all over the car so I didn't say anything. "If you're gonna puke, Lily Bird, just don't. That smell'll never leave this truck." He said, glancing at me, laughing at his own joke.

I could feel Daryl's eyes on me and I turned to look at him. His eyes were immediately drawn to my head. I looked down, self-conscious all of the sudden, and I took a glance in the rearview mirror at my reflection. I almost didn't recognize myself. The left side of my face was coated in blood, sweat, and tears and as I prodded my head wound I could tell it was still bleeding. My blue eyes were surrounded by dark shadows; I looked like I was on death's doorstep. I almost felt like crying again, it was so obviously not my day.

I attempted to press my sleeve to my head and face to staunch the blood flow and Daryl put his hand on my shoulder. "Come here," He said, pulling me closer to him. I scooted over and he pulled out his knife. "Gimme your arm," he grunted, and I held out my left arm. He used the knife to cut off my sleeve. I gasped when he pulled the sleeve over my injured left wrist and he looked at me again. "Any other injuries I should know about?"

"Nothin' life threatening," I said, looking away, embarrassed. "I think my wrist is broken, or at least sprained. Maybe a couple cracked ribs…this," I said, pointing to my head. He nodded and balled up my sleeve before pressing it to my head. I winced and he reached over to grab my right hand, switching my hand with his to hold the makeshift pad in place. I nodded in thanks and scooted back over to the window. I couldn't stop the water works from coming and I swiped at the tears rolling down my cheeks. God forbid Merle saw me crying, he would probably pull over to slap some sense into me.

Daryl surprised me by putting his arm around my shoulders and pulling me towards him again. I rested my head against his chest and pretty soon the tears stopped flowing. We drove in complete silence and I tried to think of something other than my still roiling stomach and the pain from my various injuries. Pretty soon the urge to throw up went away and the humming of the car and the trees whizzing by lulled me to sleep.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"…fuckin' coddle her all the time." I woke to Merle's angry voice.

"I ain't coddlin' her! We need to find supplies, get those injuries treated, she's still bleedin'! Look at my damn shirt." Daryl responded. I wanted to sit up, but I couldn't find the energy. I let myself drift back to sleep.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"…Lily…hey, wake up, Lil," I could hear Daryl's voice, trying to rouse me. I wanted to respond, but I felt totally foggy, like I was under water. What the hell was wrong with me?

I managed to flutter my eyes open, and I could tell it was dark outside and we were still driving. I could feel myself starting to drift off again, then I heard Merle's angry voice. "Give her a slap, that'll snap her out of it…"

"…not helpin'…" I heard Daryl say, before I felt a rough shove to my shoulder and I was pushed into the window, off Daryl's chest. The sharp pain in my ribs brought me back to consciousness like a bucket of water thrown over my head. I groaned.

I heard Merle laugh, "Sleepin' beauty finally wakes up, about time, Lily Bird." I was still trying to manage all the pain I was feeling, I couldn't even form the words for a response. I gently touched the left side of my forehead because that seemed to be the center of all the pain and it felt wet and sticky. I was still bleeding. I glanced over at Daryl and he was staring at me, watching my every move. His shirt was covered in my blood and I suddenly felt nauseated. I put my head against the window, enjoying the cold, and before I knew it I was drifting off again.

.

.

.

.

.

.

When I woke next, the world was tilted at an angle and it took me a couple seconds to realize someone was carrying me. It had to be Daryl. I was able to just barely open my eyes and from the strange angle I could make out what I thought to be a big RV. An unfamiliar man with a shotgun came into view.

"Who the hell are you?" was all I heard before I passed out again.

TBC