Fate of the World
Summary: We all know the Army are still active, so what happens when our group run into them? What's their mission, why are they so cagey about it and why do they need Daryl Dixon's help? Set between seasons 2 and 3 although some stuff we learn of Daryl's backstory in season 3 is mentioned. Canon fic, no relationships other than what happens in the show.
Authors note: First off I don't own The Walking Dead and I'm not making any money from this. This story is rated for it's language mostly because I refuse to believe that Dixon's do not use the f word. And by proxy he's probably having a negative effect on some of the others too.
I intend to put these chapters up every few days, and as I'm off work with an injury right now that is likely to happen as planned. As ever though, you guys know the drill. Reviews are motivation, the more I get the quicker I write.
I've gotta give a shout out to my wonderful boyfriend, after years of keeping my fanfic as my own guilty pleasure not only did he uncover and read my previous story, and more importantly was complimentary and not at all jealous of the attention I give Daryl, he's come up with the idea for this one.
Thanks for reading and enjoy.
Chapter 1
"Fuck it's cold!" Maggie cursed as she was relieved of guard duty by T-Dog and came to sit down by the fire that the rest of the group were huddled around. She rubbed her hands up and down on her arms hoping that some friction through the multiple layers of jumpers and hoodies would get some blood back into them. Glenn shuffled up closer to her and wrapped an arm around her drawing her close.
Hershel sat across from them and, cuddling Beth close to him, gave her a glare. "Now don't be usin' language like that, the world may have ended but God can still hear you," he admonished.
Maggie was about to open her mouth, whether to protest or say she was sorry she wasn't yet sure but before she could say anything she was interrupted…
"Fuckin' shit! You assholes!" The shouts were coming out of the forest in a familiar voice, accompanied by the sound of feet pounding against the frostbitten ground.
Hershel rolled his eyes at the language but did not have time to say anything as Daryl came barrelling into camp, wide-eyed and brandishing his crossbow.
"There's a pack o' them coming right up on us," he said, struggling for breath. "Everyone in the cars now!" he ordered. He had a cut on his forehead that was running blood into his right eye but he didn't seem to notice.
"How many?" Glenn asked as the whole camp leapt to their feet.
"I didn't stop t' count!" Daryl said. "You think if there were only a few I'd be botherin' y'all like this?" He was angry and snipping at them but they all let it go. Truth be told over the past few months, they'd all snapped at each other and not always with good reason.
One of the tents unzipped and Rick poked his head out. "We got trouble?"
"Yeah brother, we got trouble! You got Lori an' Carl in there?"
"Jus' Lori."
"And you picked now to fix your marriage? Get 'em outta here! Where is fuckin' Carl? You need to put a leash on that kid."
Rick could have protested but he didn't; he climbed out of the tent, pulling a shirt on, and helped his pregnant wife Lori out and up to her feet.
They could see them then, coming out of the trees lit up in the firelight. No one could tell how many. The walkers staggered towards them in their droves. Daryl had been right, there were too many to count.
As soon as Rick was out of the tent he started organising everyone, ushering Lori and the others into the vehicles. Daryl had turned his back on the group to face the woods and began shooting arrows into the nearest walkers' faces. Without looking he felt T-Dog's presence come up beside him and then there was a sharp crack of his pistol, too many walkers to care about being quiet.
"Where's Carl?" Lori shouted, panicked, above the noise of people rushing and the oncoming walkers.
"Lori, please get in the car," Rick was pleading with the woman. "Carol will you take her?" He handed the woman over into the arms of Carol who steered her towards the cars. All the others had gotten in now and were just waiting for Rick, Daryl and T-Dog. Glenn, Hershel and Carol were behind the wheels of the three vehicles.
"Come on!" Glenn shouted. "We gotta go!"
"Carl!" Rick shouted into the woodlands, "Carl!"
"I'll get him," Daryl said. "Go!"
"He's my son!" Rick hissed at the other man.
"And you need to get the group out of here," Daryl argued. "Go, I'll get him."
Rick stared at the other man a moment. "Bring him back," he said, a lump in his throat. He gave Daryl's arm a quick squeeze and then ran to the awaiting vehicles. "Come on T, we gotta go." T-Dog gave Daryl a look but followed suit. They were soon in the cars and speeding away.
Daryl, now alone, focused his attention on the walkers coming out of the woods. He shot a few more arrows but knew he couldn't keep this up. He turned and ran for his brother's motorcycle, leaping on it and gunning the engine.
"Carl!" He shouted over and over. "Carl! Where are you, you little bastard?" He pulled away from the camp and off into the forest a little ways. Carl had to be in the other direction to the walkers he figured or he would have come running back to camp. There was of course another possibility which was that he would not be running anywhere ever again, but Daryl couldn't let himself think like that.
"Carl!" He kept yelling until his voice became hoarse. There was a stream not far away he remembered, so he pointed his motorbike in its direction and navigated through the trees.
Eventually one of his calls was answered. "Daryl?" came the high pitched yell, the boy's voice not quite broken yet.
"I'm here kid," Daryl replied. "Now get your ass over here."
The young boy ran out of the woods into the beams of the bike's headlights. He looked scared although he was trying to hide it.
"Get on." Daryl spun the bike round so he could get on it. Carl ran up to the bike and then looked at it as if he wasn't sure how he would get on the back.
"Jus' swing your leg over, we gotta go," Daryl said and the boy did as he was told although he struggled with the height. "Hold on to me tight," Daryl demanded and he did, slinging his arms around Daryl's chest. Once Daryl was sure he was holding on he revved the accelerator and off they went, blasting through the trees as though the bike was built for off-roading. He felt Carl hold onto him even tighter and push his body in close to stop himself from falling off. He was tense though and trying to counter, leaning his body in the opposite way to Daryl and the bike. Had he been bigger Daryl would have worried about the effect it would have on his riding but right now there was no time for tuition in riding pillion.
They shot back out of the forest just beside the camp. The firepit was still burning, surrounded by their tents but the whole area was full of walkers. Daryl pulled a pistol out of the belt of his jeans and started taking shots to navigate through the swarm of bodies. He was concentrating on the creatures in front of him and was barely aware of anything else but then he felt Carl release his grip with one arm and then before he had chance to register what that meant he was deafened with a gunshot held right by his ear.
He cursed aloud at the pain it brought but also noticed that a walker fell because of it, hit right between the eyes.
"Good shot, kid," he said over the ringing in his ears. He manoeuvred the bike through the walkers and out onto the highway. Carl kept shooting and did a good job of helping to clear a path, although every time a shot came close to Daryl's ear it made him want to lash out and elbow the damn kid off the back of the bike.
It got easier once they were on the smooth blacktop of the highway, Daryl was able to open the engine up and really pull out, leaving the walkers to roam their abandoned camp. Once they were free of the walkers he felt Carl at his back holster his weapon and cling on to Daryl again for dear life. They were speeding along now so Daryl guessed he couldn't blame the kid but if he was going to ride with him again he needed to learn. Daryl slowed a bit so they could hear each other over the wind whipping their words away.
"Kid, you gotta relax!" he growled. "You have to move with my body, if I lean left you lean left."
"Feels like I'll fall off," Carl muttered. Daryl could only just hear him over the ringing in his ear.
"Do you think I'd risk my life getting your sorry ass outta there jus' to let you fall off my damn bike? If you don't do as I say we will both fall off and you can explain to your dad how you got crushed under it!" Daryl knew he was being harsh but he wasn't in the mood to baby-sit. He sighed, releasing some of his anger. "Just relax okay and enjoy the ride."
Daryl sped up again, watching the road ahead but feeling Carl shift on the back. He was still really tense and gripping Daryl so tightly round the waist he wouldn't be surprised if he was left with bruising. He rolled his eyes but let it go; arguing with the kid was only going to make his anger worse.
Eventually he could see three sets of taillights up ahead and knew he'd caught up to them. The three cars were parked up across the road waiting for them but with their engines still running should they need a quick getaway. Daryl drove up to the red truck and pulled up at the passenger's window. Rick was in the passenger seat, Carol driving with Lori in the back.
"Oh my God, Carl!" Lori exclaimed and threw the door open, jumping out and grabbing him in a hug. Carl slipped off the bike awkwardly and returned the gesture albeit a little reluctantly. Daryl wondered if anyone else had noticed just how much the kid was avoiding his parents these days.
"Thank you, Daryl," Rick said in that way he had of conveying his most heart-felt thanks.
Carol leaned over to the passenger side to take a good look at him. "Your ear is bleeding," she said, concerned.
Daryl reached a hand up to check his right ear and it came back sticky with blood. "Can't hear nuthin' in it neither. Rick, your boy may be a good shot but he needs to learn not to be crackin' that pistol off right next to someone's ear."
"You need to get Hershel to look at it," Rick said, concerned, guilt washing over his face at what his son had unwittingly done.
"When we stop," Daryl conceded. "Right now I think we need to put a few more miles between us and the camp. Here ain't a good place."
Rick nodded. "Do you wanna swap? I could take the bike if you're tired."
"Nah, the ride'll do me good," Daryl said gruffly. Now that Carl had gotten off the bike and climbed into the back seat of the truck with his mother, Daryl gave Rick a curt nod and pulled away to the front of the group, leading them on into the night.
To be continued...
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