Survival - Chapter One

"Sometimes even to live is an act of courage." - Lucius Annaeus Seneca

The hunting shack was thread-bare and desolate, and the light of the Georgian sun bled in through the gaps of the shutters. Opposite his uncle, Daryl Dixon stared down at the beaten oak table and roamed his eyes over the remaining ammunition. He counted the hunting knives and the pistols, the bolt-filled leather and suede quiver by the doorframe. He counted each piece of weaponry twice before turning back to his elder, listening as the man called him forward.

"Daryl, come here, We gotta work up a plan," muttered Jess Dixon, gesturing to their small armoury.

"Have you ever seen anything like that?"

"If you told me about it," continued the older male, shaking his head in disbelief. "I''d call you a liar."

"Listen," cut in Daryl, knowing there was no time for idle conversation. "There's more of them comin'."

"We gotta go!"

"The only thing we gotta do is kill every last one of them!" argued Daryl, pointing to the woods beyond the shack. He ran the pad of his thumb over his knuckles and brought it to his lips, distinguishing the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. Running his thumb back over the cuts, he could feel the shards of reflective glass caught between his skin. It didn't matter. He would worry about that later.

"Daryl," said Jess, "I know you're upset, but just listen!" He motioned to the door and the bangs and scuffles of the creatures outside. "That sounds like a whole lot of them. We need to go. Now." And with those words, Jess began to pack their supplies into the empty duffle bag on the table top. "Gather up as much as you can and meet me at the truck!" he all but shouted, snapping his nephew into action.

"Let's go, then!"

Jess turned back to his ward. "Daryl, remember what we learned about them. Head trauma. Attack the brain, remember? Only thing we know that kills them. And be quiet sneaking out the back door. Don't let them see you!"

As his Uncle Jess left the shack, Daryl stared around the place. He loaded the bag with the ammunition and glanced down at the sheaths, noting that one of the nine inch blades was missing. The cries and groans of the biters grew louder with each passing second, and without second thought Daryl scooped up the remaining knives and stowed them in the bag. He brandished his own ten inch blade and made his way toward an open window at the back of the lodge. He passed the faded photo of him and his brother, and dropped the empty knife sheaths on the lodge floor. "Good luck to you, too," he muttered.


The Georgian sun was blistering and it burned the asphalt. The days had blurred into weeks. How long had it been? Daryl wasn't sure. He knew that the days seemed to get longer, the sun grew hotter, and his fight for survival increased with each Biter kill. Having made his way through the towns, scavenging gas from Lucky Lester's gas station, listening to the radio transmissions, Daryl felt drained. Supplies were limited, and he'd taken to looting through abandoned cars and SUVs, snatching water bottles and ammunition that had been left behind.

It wasn't long until Jess succumbed to his wounds, and Daryl had to put a bullet through the man's brain.


Days later, he met other survivors: a woman named Scout holed up in an abandoned eatery. She told him of their troubles in this desolate town, of the Biters that roamed the streets and most of the buildings. Scout alerted him to the sounds of the sniper positioned atop one of the roofs, the man shooting at their small team and the car alarms.

"Who's "us?" he asked. "You two?"

Scout shook her head. "No," she replied. "Gotta whole team out there." A pause. "Or did. We scavenge supplies for the local survivor camps-"

"There're survivor camps?"

A nod. "The military supplies some of 'em with weapons, meds… There's a big one at Cherokee Hills Sawmill. We were doing pretty well, until that psycho-sniper showed up and brought a whole mob of Biters down on top of us. We got split up," she told him. "Pinned down… Killed."

Daryl nodded his head, knowing there was more to be said. She had gestured to the bag of weapons on the floor, telling him he could have it. But nothing came for free - not even at the end of the world.

"I need to get my people together. One of my runners, Mia, is holed up in the theatre across the street. Help her out and I'll make it worth your while. Just tell her Scout sent you."

"I'll think about it." And with those parting words, and a second glance at the rucksack of weapons, Daryl cursed and turned away, readying his knife and pistol. Since when had he turned into an errand boy?


It didn't take long to locate the other woman. She was rude and abrupt and sickly pale having spent the last three days trapped inside the theatre. She pushed him away as he approached, and in response Daryl did a quick sweep over the darkened room. No food, no supplies, no weapons. She was harmless. The woman, Mia, spat insults at him as he tried to explain the situation, and Daryl was quick to display his annoyance with the situation.

"There's a half-ladder down," explained Mia, pointing in the direction she needed him to go down. "Clear the way and I can get out, and back to Scout. There's another girl in our group. No one's seen her for days-"

"Let's do it," interrupted Daryl. The sooner he killed those things, the sooner he could find Merle and leave. "I gotta get over to the Police Station to get my brother, anyway."

"The Police Station?" scoffed Mia, and she bit out a laugh. "But that's where the killer is set up!" At her words, Daryl's brow furrowed. "You think your brother is even alive?"

Scouts words ran through his head: we were doing pretty well, until that psycho-sniper showed up and brought a whole mob of Biters down on top of us! And in reply to the woman's question, Daryl nodded and turned away. "Yeah," he muttered. "I've got my suspicions."

"Hey!" called Mia, stumbling forward. "You never told me your name!"

"Does it matter?"

She shook her head. "Guess not. But just listen, OK? Like I said, there's another woman from our group out there. I never learned her name, but she's a good person to have around. Great with a knife. Even better with a med kit. If you see her, help her."


The trick with the half-ladder was easy enough, and Daryl had earned his bag of weapons in less than two hours. He bid his goodbyes to Scout and her group, the third woman still AWOL, and made his way through the cells of the Police Station. What he saw inside one of the locked cells had his stomach turn. A Biter had made quick work of his cell mate, blood red flesh painting the floor of the cage. Daryl looked away, disgusted. Why waste energy killing an animal that couldn't get out? Besides, he had to find Merle - had to leave the town and eventually the state.

The passage to the roof of the station was littered with Biter bodies, and Daryl shook his head as a smirk played on his lips. He pushed at the door, unsurprised when it would not open. He cursed under his breath, and bit down on the inside of his cheek in irritation when the familiar voice sounded from the other side of the door.

"Oh, no!" sang Merle. "Sneaking up, are we? No, no, no. You're never gonna take me back there!"

What the hell? thought Daryl as a bullet grazed the left side of the door. "C'mon, Merle!" he shouted through the frame. "It's me!" Silence. "Merle!"

The shooting ceased for a short moment. "What's lower than impersonating a man's long-lost baby brother?! You're just trying to gain false entry! That's what you're doing!"

"Damnit, Merle! I'm just going to leave you here!" An empty threat, knew Daryl. But it appeared to have worked.

A laugh rumbled. "Keep your pants on, sweetheart. I locked this place down pretty good…"

The door to the roof opened and two strong hands clapped Daryl on his shoulders and dragged him onto the ground. Merle locked the door behind them, coming to stand beside his brother as the two looked each other over. "Them people?" began Merle, jabbing a finger at the door, "They locked me up for days in the dark with all them abominations!" He grunted, moving back toward his rifle. "But look'ee who's just a little bit too smart for them!"

Daryl shook his head, a string of curses and swears flitting through his mind. "Bro," he said, taking in Merle's red raw skin. "You're stir-fried some the sun and booze. And what ever you been into."

Merle shrugged his shoulders, wiping his knuckles across his forehead. A line of sweat trickled down his neck. "I do feel a little warm, now that you mention it." He gestured to his hands, noting the red marks cut into his wrists. "I sprang myself, see? Established my little sniper's nest right here." He pointed to the clutter of guns and the blue and white deck chair. "And then I commenced sending those soldiers packing!" He guffawed. "I rang the alarms calling in the abomination!"

"Man, those aren't soldiers down there!" bit Daryl, "just some scavengers trying to help people out. They don't even know who you are!"

"They're in uniform, ain't they? And they came to take me back to the hole!" Merle spat on the floor. "And I'm not going anywhere but Jake's, and that's where you're gonna take me! C'mon!"

And with that, Merle stumbled to the floor.

Daryl wrapped his around his brother, feeling the heat of Merle's skin against his own. How long had the idiot been out here for? Since it all started? "Let's go, you ape," muttered Daryl, struggling to hold his brother upright. "Guess I gotta lug your thick ass back across town, huh?" He shook his head, pulling Merle to his feet. "Man, you must be running over a hundred and six…"

"My chair!"

Daryl closed his eyes and shook his head once more, leading his brother back to the door. "Yeah," he said, and he ran a tired hand over his jaw. "It'll be here when you come back."


The route from the Police Station to the car was littered with Biters of all shapes and sizes. Some were slow, stumbling and groaning, and others were fast with teeth snapping and hands outstretched. Readying his weapons, Daryl aimed a hit to the back of a Biter's head and watched in satisfaction as blood gushed from the wound and the body hit the floor. He copied his actions till a row of Biter bodies lined the way toward the Police Cruiser Daryl had acquired five days ago.

"I see somethin'!" shouted Merle from the passenger seat, pointing at the building opposite them.

"No time!" argued Daryl, but he followed his brother's line of sight to see a flash of blonde hair zipping between the buildings. Daryl frowned. Was this the third person? The third woman to Scout's group? "Hold on a sec," he said, watching as the Biters, three in total, advanced on the lithe form. He exited the car, ignoring the shouts from his brother, and jogged to the alleyway closest to them, watching as the blonde woman raised her knife against the Biters. In seconds, two of the creatures were on the floor with blunt trauma to the neck and skull. The third Biter had no arms though it lunged forward, and had it not been for Daryl's knife, the woman would have been sporting a rather messy bite mark.

The woman emptied the contents of her stomach upon the floor, and she remained hunched over.

Was this the woman? wondered Daryl. He crept closer, wiping the blood off his knife on his pants leg. And from his position in front of the blonde, his eyes narrowed in recognition. "Emily?" muttered Daryl, shaking his head at the sight of the woman. "Em," he repeated. "That you?"

The woman looked up at the call of her name, her blonde ponytail matted with blood and dirt. She stumbled to her feet, swaying to the left, before running forward to collapse against the hood of the car. She glanced up at the male, and her green-flecked eyes bore into his. "Hey, Daryl," she breathed.


So... What do you think?

This story will closely follow the game (Survival Instinct) and the television show. It will be an eventual Daryl/OC with more to come in the later chapters. If you've yet to play SI, I advise you to read with caution. A lot of the dialogue comes from SI's script, but with Emily's charater a lot of the scenes will be my own.

If you'd like to read more, please review. I have the next chapters written and ready to upload. So... Please review!