It was supposed to be a simple run. A quick recon mission, in and out, nothing more, nothing less. That is what he had told him. As bullets flew by, ricocheting off steel poles, broken glass and aging brick, Rick realized that the situation had grown quickly out of control.
They were surrounded.
The warehouse factory's courtyard was void of nearly any cover. They ducked as they ran, their only escape being a broken fence that was too far for them to reach in one mad dash. A short, copper drum was their last protection against a spray of bullets coming from shooters hiding in the windows. Rick fired back at a gunman. He did not see the sniper on his left, whose weapon was aimed directly over Rick's heart. What he did see was Daryl, who pulled Rick around so that Daryl's own body shielded his, and the strange and sudden way he jerked and stumbled into him. Daryl grunted, pointed at the drum, and they made a run for it, ducking behind it at the last second before the drum banged and battered with the sound of whizzing bullets.
"You ok?!" Rick shouted over the din.
"Yeah, sure!" was Daryl's response.
Rick nodded at him, and returned fire. He did not see the way Daryl was holding his side. He did not see him remove his hand, slick and red and drenched in blood.
A stray bullet clipped Rick's shoulder. With a cry, he crouched back down, hissing through his teeth. "The gate's broken on the fence!" he yelled. "It should open. I'll cover you, you make a go for—" Rick paused when he saw the puddle of muddy water between them turn red. It swirled slowly, light in color, then grew dark. He stared at Daryl. His face was pale and ashen white. He was breathing fast, grimacing in pain. Before long, Rick's gaze fell over the wound on Daryl's side...
Everything stopped. There was so much blood. The ground beneath them was soaked in it. It pooled around Rick's knee, his boot. No. Rick gaped at Daryl, dumbstruck. It couldn't end like this. Not now. Not here, in this miserable place. It was supposed to be a simple run. That's what Rick had told him...
Dust flew up as more bullets pelted the ground. Rick grabbed Daryl's shoulder. "Hey!" he yelled. "Stay with me! Daryl, stay with me!"
Daryl's hand clutched at his side. He reached out to grip Rick's arm and hoisted himself on his knees. He stopped short, grunting in agony as more blood spilled between his fingers. "I'll get you back!" Rick shouted. "I'll get you back, I swear it!" Daryl made a sound, something between a cough and a laugh. He stared at Rick. "No, man," he said, sadly. "You won't."
Daryl pulled Rick to him, both hands seizing his shirt, and he got to his feet, crouching down and peering around the drum. Bullets whizzed by nearly taking his ear. He looked Rick straight in the eye when he spoke next. Rick could only stare back.
"Don't stop," he told him. "Don't wait. And don't look back. Just run!"
Before Rick could speak, before he could even form a thought, Daryl pushed him out from the cover of the drum. Daryl used his body to shield him again, urging him forward as they ran for the gate. "Go!" Daryl shouted. "GO!" Gunfire exploded all around them. Daryl dropped, but Rick did as he was told. He ran for the fence, busting it open and slamming it shut. He disobeyed one thing. He looked back. Rick stood there, helplessly, as his friend laid sprawled in the dust. His body trembled weakly, and blood bubbled from his mouth. Daryl was dying. Dying. And there was nothing Rick could do. He couldn't even put him down...
Shots fired over Rick's head. He ducked, and to his horror, walkers suddenly appeared in the courtyard. Men were shouting and firing at the new targets, and Rick took one last moment to look at his friend. Daryl was motionless now. Still and lifeless. Blood seeped in the dirt around him. His face was turned away. A hollow emptiness filled Rick's stomach as tears pooled in his eyes. Hating himself, disgusted and ashamed, Rick turned back, leaving Daryl's body behind him.
Rick gripped at his shoulder. The bullet wound was burning hot as he ran down the long maze-like alley. He had reached a dead end, coming face to face with a brick wall. Cursing, he turned back, and as he did, he saw that the fence was seconds from being torn down by the walkers that had filled the courtyard. He passed them, not daring to look at them, and he could hear their horrible snarls as the gate at last gave way. Rick was nearing a second fence. He could see the door was wide open leading to his freedom, when he was suddenly slammed to the ground by the force of a freight train.
Rick hit the dirt hard, the air ripped from his lungs. A man was standing over him now. "Where you think you're going, huh?!" he said, hoisting Rick by the jacket and punching him in the face. Rick spun, falling to the ground again. "I'm just getting started, asshole!" The man kicked Rick in the ribs once, twice, three times, before Rick grabbed him by the foot and twisted his ankle around. The man fell on top of him, and the two wrestled in the dust, throwing punches at each other. A sudden hand dug deep into Rick's shoulder. White hot searing pain coursed through Rick's veins and he cried out in agony. Another quick blow to the face and Rick blacked out, not realizing he was being dragged to his feet and shoved up against the chain-linked fence. "You're dead, you son of a bitch!" The man wrapped his hands around Rick's neck and squeezed. Rick's eyes bulged as panic seized him. He began to trash, trying to free himself, but the man's grip was too tight. The world around him began to tunnel. His body felt slow and tired, and a hazy dizziness crept over him. He was going to die. This man he did not know was killing him, and he was going to die here alone, far away from the people he loved. He would never see his children again. Carl, Judith... they would never know what happened to him. He thought of Michonne. He never got to say goodbye...
The man was saying something to him, but Rick did not listen. He did not want his last view of the world to be this stranger. He looked over his shoulder, resigned to his death, when the next thing he saw scared the life back into him. "That's right," the man snarled at him. "Be afraid, asshole! You're going to die here, you miserable piece of shit!" In an instant, the man's cruel smirk vanished. He was suddenly screaming, howling in fear and terror, as the walker came up from behind and bit down hard on his neck. Rick gasped for breath. He stood there, frozen in shock. He couldn't believe it... this couldn't be happening...
Blood squirted out like a broken hose as the man shrieked. Rick pushed the man off him, pushing him into the walker. The man fell to his knees and the walker came down with him. Rick stepped away. Blood gushed around the man writhing on the ground. The walker pulled up, ripping a chunk of flesh from the man, and slowly looked at Rick. His face was covered in blood, his eyes were pale and blue, but there was no denying who he was. Who he used to be. Their eyes met, and Rick felt as though all the strength in him would surely crumble. A moment passed where he could not move, could not breathe. He looked into Daryl's lifeless eyes and let the tears flow freely then. Low, growling snarls sounded before him and Rick looked up to see all the walkers coming toward them, attracted to the screams of the dying man. Daryl's walker turned away from Rick. He paid him no more attention as the rest of the walkers descend on the man. Rick forced himself to move. He ran out the door, closed it shut, and turned back one last time as Daryl vanished among the swarm of corpses. The cries of the man slowly faded away.
Rick did not turn back again.