CHAPTER 1
- Dead and Gone -
Merle didn't have friends.
Daryl knew this.
Yet he'd willingly offered to accompany him.
It wasn't such a big surprise when they ended up parking outside the laundry
Wordlessly, his older brother shut off the engine and smirked. "You can stay in the car. I could roll down a window for ya" Merle teased.
"What are we doing here?"
There was no answer and as pissed as Daryl was, he still had his brother's back. It wasn't long before they were sat on a tattered sofa, staring at a man seating on an equally worn armchair. Between them was a coffee table standing on three legs. On it, there was a credit card, a white hill next to six white lines. Daryl had already took a hit and was moving on to his next course.
Daryl, uninebriated, shook his head when the spliff was held out to him.
Even as they laughed and mocked him, Daryl withdrew. He was bored and only half-listening, so when the door opened, he gladly welcomed the distraction. One that immediately captured his attention.
His eyes moved from the bare feet, up to the slender legs and curves until resting on her face.
A woman.
Young. Mid-twenties.
Her face was void of any cosmetics and she was seemingly naked under the long silk robe. Her hair, long, blonde and damp, still dripping with each step she took.
Like a predator, he watched her every move. Only when she glanced towards his direction, did he look away.
"You started the party without me" she pouted, crossing her arms but the playful tone contradicted her annoyance.
The dealer, Mark seemed content with the interruption. "Just playing host," he chuckled. "…but please, help yourself" he gestured to the table.
The woman kneeled down on the other side of the table. She bowed her head and snorted the drug, hissing as she breathed it in. When she looked up, a wicked grin was sent his way.
"Mel"
"Daryl"
That was how they met.
He was supposed to be hunting and trying to find food. He was supposed to have found something – anything.
Instead, like his mind, he was walking around circles.
More like he was stumbling.
As his mind wandered, so did his.
Unpredictably, his thoughts seemed permanently fixated on one thing.
Grace.
Memories of his mother and father were broken fragments, whereas those of her were clean-cut. Not only could he recall the clothes she wore the last time he saw her, but also the habitual way she gnawed at her fingernails.
With his past – the past before her – memories were vague and discorded. All that haunted him were the emotions evoked when he thought of them.
Pain. Fear. Anger.
Of course the same feelings rose when he thought of her. Only, they were minutely weakened with the good that she had given him. The love that he severely lacked from his family but found tenfold in her. A strange notion considering she had been as broken as he was, if not more.
Before he could torture himself by recalling her childhood, a feral snarl pulled him from his stupor. He turned just before the walker could attack. In a panic, he roughly shoved the walking corpse from him and used the distance to retrieve his trusty knife.
Just as he was about to attack, he froze but held it back. The walker gnashed it's teeth but he was watching the way grey strands blew in the breeze.
Her hair was blonde and usually pulled back in a messy ponytail. However, nowadays, it didn't take much for his thoughts to betray him by recollection of her.
He hated how he saw her in the dead. It weighed as a heavy reminder that she was gone. This helped in awakening him and viciously stabbing the walker. Within seconds it was on the ground, unmoving.
He bent down, hands on his knees and spat the creature. Daryl remained in the position and drew in a deep breath, waiting until his heartbeat settled. All the while, he cursed and berated himself for allowing such a close call. A few were voiced but the rest remained as unspoken thoughts.
When his gaze reached the inanimate walker and her face returned.
It wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last.
With that decisive thought, Daryl decided to get back to the camp. If he didn't return before sundown, they were going to send a search party.
It was amusing to think that two weeks ago, they were strangers. Now, they sat around bonfires and sang kumbaya. Nonetheless, as disorienting as it was, Daryl knew that each day spent with the camp made it harder for him to go through with Merle's plan.
They were supposed to have looted their provisions as well as taking the RV. Half a month later and they were still here. Part of Daryl hoped that they wouldn't need to go through with the plan.
He thought of what she would say.
Then after conjuring up an answer, he grew angry for having entertained the thought.
Perhaps dreaming and thinking of her was his subconscious trying to give comfort that no one else could.
It would explain the relentless dreams.
It would explain the inability to let go of his anger.
It would also explain the manifestation staring back at him.
Just a few feet away, standing openly in the middle of the forest with her eyes on him.
He shook his head in confusion when realizing what she was wearing. The same ripped jeans and his faded Led Zeppelin t-shirt. Unlike his dreams, her hair was released from the ponytail and blonde tresses rolled freely down her back. He recalled how he used to be the one to free those locks and the strange satisfaction of running his fingers through.
"Grace"
He sighed his shock and relief but didn't dare to move. His arms had fallen limply by his side that he had to tighten his grip on the knife before it could slip from his hold. The shock crippled him and all he could think was how his dreams had not done her justice.
"Grace"
This time, she smiled.
Not the smirk she usually gave.
Then it fell and her eyes darkened. She looked away from his face and over his shoulder. Wordlessly, she frowned and nodded towards him. "Behind you" she whispered.
Daryl sorted through his emotions and became torn between his surprise and confusion. "What?"
"Behind you"
Finally understanding what she meant, he spun around in time to catch three walkers closing in.
Instinct kicked in and he took them down. No longer with the desire to work out his frustration but rather, the mechanical urgency to determine his sanity.
That was why he didn't bother rechecking if the walkers were dead. Once they begun to descend to the ground, he turned back around.
She was gone.
