~Concrete~
Yeah I was scared. But I tried not to show it. I perched up in a tall oak tree as three gruesome, flesh craving walkers lumbered below me. I clutched my hunting knife to my chest. It was the only weapon I had on me, the only thing keeping me from being eaten. That and my climbing skills. Since I dropped my gun during one of my many battles with the dead, I couldn't take out the walkers from my hiding place. As the flesh-eaters limped away, I silently shimmied down the tree and ran for dear life. I sprinted away from possible death.
I stopped to catch my breath when felt a pair of eyes watching me from the bushes. I quickly retreated to a near tree. I hid myself behind a thick branch. I watched in fear as a rugged guy –he looked around the age of thirtyish- came jogging though the woods. A person? A living one? One that doesn't want to rip my tendons from my body and enjoys my kidneys like a delicious snack? My heart stopped. The guy halted in front of my tree so I took time to observe him while he adjusted a rope of dead squirrels. He had short but messy dirty blonde hair and sun effected skin that was just to the point of being barely burnt. He was wearing a flannel with the sleeves cut off with a dirty wife beater underneath. He was wearing grubby jeans that with worn down knees. He had a large crossbow on his back with several arrows. He was intimidating but oddly handsome. I guess being twenty and the fact I haven't seen a living human in a couple months made me think that.
I started to slip on the branch, my boots making noise against the rough bark. The guy drew his crossbow and turned around looking for any harm. I guess it was time to make an appearance. I jumped down from my hiding place drawing my knife in case he decided to fight. He whirled around pointing the cross bow at me with much determination as if something would go down and he would win.
"Put the crossbow down. I'm not one of them." I put my knife back on my belt to show him I meant no harm… for now. He let his arm and the crossbow hang by his side.
"You really think that cheap ass hunting knife will really keep you safe from the eaters?" He said almost amused in a dull southern accent.
" Eaters?" I was confused about what he meant. "OH! That's what you call them. I know them as walkers." I kept my gaze cold. "Sawyer." I held out my hand. He disregarded my hand.
"Daryl." There was a silence. "You out here alone… Sawyer?" He said my name mockingly.
"Yeah actually I am. You're the first human I have seen in at least 2 months." It was the truth. The takeover had started about three months ago.
"Back at you, blondie." The corner of his mouth turned up in a grin.
"What say we stick together? Just for a while at least." There was silence as he pondered the option.
"Fine. But you listen to me. You obey whatever I say. Got it?" I gave a swift nod. "Follow me. See I've got a little problem." He said as I followed him through the woods. He picked up into a light jog. I did the same. He suddenly halted and signaled for me to be quite. We slowly crept forward behind a patch of trees. "Look." He whispered ever so quietly. I then saw what his problem was. A good sized herd of walkers. He handed me a hand gun out of his bag. Checking if it was loaded, he handed me a couple more rounds. He prepared his cross bow before signaling to me that it was time to take them out. He moved first. He fired arrow after arrow at the walkers and I soon started firing as well. I scurried onto the roof of an abandoned car to get better view.
Everything went in slow motion it seemed as I popped another round at multiple walkers, watching them fall to the ground. Daryl climbed on top of a car like I did. He hit every walker he shot square between their dead and milky eyes. We worked as a team and took out the herd, shot by shot. As the second to last one dropped I hopped down from the roof I had stood and grabbed a metal pole that was laying in the middle of the road and decided to take care of the last one my way. I ran at it and watch the rusty dented pole go straight through the zombies head. I yanked the pole back before it slammed into the concrete.
I repeatedly smashed at the head of the monster. Watching its head become a pile of blood and skin and hearing the sound the metal and the skull made when they collided made several tears run down my face. I hurled the metal weapon as far as I could before wiping the tears form my cheek. I felt a hand on my back. I turned to see Daryl behind me.
"Y'all right?" he asked as I sniffled and handed him his gun back. "Keep it. You need some way to protect yourself." He handed me the gun back. I saw something in his eyes then. It was trust.