A/N This is my first fanfic ever posted on here so be nice and review please!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead, anything on here that you recognize such as the plot, the characters and the ideas belong to AMC and Robert Kirkman. Thank you, I only own my OCs.
Rewritten as of July 4th
Daryl Dixon drove up the small driveway to the Adkins-Dixon mechanics shop. He sighed as he got out of his crappy old pickup truck. He was exhausted, Merle had had company last night.
A man with specks of grey in his almost black hair walked forward to greet him. A young man appeared behind him, his dirty blond hair standing out among the other male workers.
"Hey there Daryl." The older man said and nodded towards a Harley Davidson motorcycle in one of the stalls. "Owners been complaining again. Said that Max did a bad job or something." The man beside him shook his head. The younger man was Max Adkins, John's oldest child.
Daryl shook his head and sighed as he headed over to the bike. He had only been working for a moment when there was the roar of an engine and the men abandoned their stalls to see what it was. A black '67 Chevy Impala was making its way up the small drive and Max had a loopy grin plastered to his face.
It came to a stop and a young woman walked out. She had shoulder blade length wavy brunette hair, was wearing dark washed Daisy Dukes and a grey crop top with huge aviator sunglasses on. Around her neck were dog tags. She scoffed at all the men and shook her head.
"Ah know ya guys aren't so excited to see me. So without further adieu, ah brought mah favorite people in the world presents from tha big city." She grinned and opened the trunk. She began pulling out six-packs of beers and handing them to the shop hands.
After she pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a new lighter to John who smiled in return. She pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to her brother, whose eyes got huge.
"Ya bought me a damn hooker?" He looked disgusted but she laughed.
"Ah'm just kidding, God take a joke. Here." She tossed him a pair of steel toed work boots. "Where's Jack?"
She looked around the small group of men before John Hughes spoke up. "He moved to Atlanta with his family."
Scanning the crowd, she pulled out a flannel long sleeved shirt and sighed before tossing it to Daryl. "Ya must be his replacement. Ah'm Natalie."
"Daryl Dixon." He stated feeling uncomfortable. The other men smirked and elbowed him in the ribs. But Daryl knew that this girl was too good for him so he didn't say another word.
"Hows mah favorite corporal?" Max asked suddenly.
"Not a damn corporal anymore. Ah was discharged for 'misconduct'. All ah did was smack around my superior. Whateva. Ah was fine 'til ah stopped by Lucille's. Damn old bat just won't die already! She's all 'Why Natalie we ought to find ya a suitor before ya turn into an old maid. Ya know with that job of yours ya should be able to find a good boy'. Ah don't think that she should be talking about old maids and dying alone." She rolled her eyes and sat on the hood of her Impala.
"Ah know ah know darlin'. Now ah got ya a present." John disappeared into the small shack that was the waiting area.
She whistled quietly as she waited for John to return. When he did, he had a book in his hand and he tossed it to her. When she glanced at the cover she laughed. The Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks stared up at her. Her father also placed a hunting knife beside her on the hood.
"Thanks Dad." She grinned and opened the book. "Ah have had way too much time with Grandmaw Lucille. Ah tried to watch Dawn of the Dead when ah thought was sleeping and she said that ah was a freak and it was no wonder ah didn't have a suitor. Ah swear to God ah do not want to return to Atlanta ever again to baby sit 'er."
"Thank God that Ma wasn't like 'er." Max said with a smile but then it disappeared a second later.
"Not that ah would know." She murmured. "Ah'm gonna go and take mah shit to the house."
John nodded and a moment later she was in her car driving down the driveway. She waved before turning onto the road.
Everyone was heading back to their stalls when suddenly there was a huge bang followed by a high pitched scream. "Mitchell call 911!" John screamed as he ran down the driveway. Max took one look at the road and all the men followed suit of John.
What they found was horrifying. The black Impala had been T-boned by a Ford F-250 and there was no movement from the young woman inside the smaller car. The small towns drunk, Billy Harts, stumbled out of the truck's cab and promptly began to throw up. With a yell of anger, John threw him to the ground and began to pummel his face with his fist. Max snarled but turned his attention to the Impala. His sister was lying with her head on the steering wheel, blood dripping from her forehead and her right side. Her breathing was rattled and she wasn't moving. Blood was gushing onto the book her father had given her. Daryl stared at the scene as an ambulance tore up the street and quickly took Natalie's body and Max before tearing away once again. John was still punching Billy's face until the man was coughing blood and only then did he get up.
There were tears in the man's eyes and he looked lost.
"Daryl, the truck. Take me ta tha hospital." John managed and the other men looked pissed. The girl had only known Daryl twenty minutes, but they had known her since she was a kid. But they said nothing as the baby blue truck went on its way to the hospital.
"She's in a coma." Max stated his voice monotone when he saw them. "They are taking her a hospital in King's County. Ah guess they're the closest hospital that can efficiently deal with 'er."
"Deal with 'er?" John asked his anger rising and he had reason to. King's County was a good hundred miles away.
"Ah know. Ah know Dad." Max murmured as he sank into one of the chairs in the waiting room. The TV was on and a news anchor was talking about an increase of rabies victims that were attacking other people in Florida.