I'm dying...my stomach growls and grumbles. There's no tellin' how long it's been since this apocalypse started. Bean cans and soup cans are all over, there's no more food for me, anyway. Maybe, once I'm dead everything will be okay; my mouth won't be dry anymore and I'll always be full, once I'm gone.
I hear those things beating on the cabin, hissing and groaning. They know I'm here, they can smell my fear. I wrap my hands around my body, shivering, remembering... Taking the wooden cross off the wall and sticking it through my mother's rotted and decayed skull and then grabbing my bible and bashing it into my father's head. I still ask God, why you didn't just take me. Now, I have to stare at my parent's bodies on the floor and shiver in a dark, cold corner while everything around me is dead and gone. Slowly, I drift into a deep sleep.
I open my eyes hours later from a long sleep. Sweat is soaking my shirt and it drips down my face. Batting my eyes open a man stands a few feet away from me. "I'll be damn! She's alive Grayson, look it here!" A man says in a thick southern accent.
A tall man steps out of the bathroom and he strolls over to the guy who was talking about me. "Son of a bitch, she sure is livin'," He gives a sly smile, "Take her to the back, it's survival of the fittist and I ain't had me a purty darlin' in quite some time."
"Awww you can't do that Grayson, you know the rules. The boss'll get cha if he finds out!"
"Who gives a damn what the boss thinks Ryland! It's just us and that son of bitch Daryl!" Grayson starts walking toward me and I scoot away as far as I can go into the corner. Then I hear another set of feet walk through the front door.
"Claimed..." is all I hear come out of the guy's mouth. He doesn't sound too friendly either. Grayson turns around and stares at the guy.
"Nice try, she's already claimed!" I peek around Grayson and stare at the man holding the crossbow up. His hair is long, reddish-brown and scruffy; he has fierce blue-green eyes and stubble on his face. He's older than me but not as old as Grayson and Ryland, with their grey hair and long beards.
"I didn't hear no such word come out of your mouth, Grayson." He says in a low deep voice. I gulp and grab the thing closest to me, a baked bean can.
"She got somethin' Grayson!" screeched Ryland.
"What is she gon' do with a baked bean can, now get her you dumb sack of rocks," he turns around to Daryl and holds up his revolver. "Get your ass back out the door, I said she's mine!" Daryl is still holding the bow up, standing as still as a statue.
"And I said claimed..." he cocks his head a little. "Ain't that the damn rule, you gotta say claimed!?"
Ryland makes his way to my corner and I start throwing bean cans at him but it doesn't stop him. He grabs my wrist and tears start to form in my eyes. Grayson turns around with a sigh and shoves the gun in the front of his pants.
"Let her be Ryland, Daryl can have her first, while we get warmed up."
Ryland does as he is told while Daryl drops the crossbow to his side and walks over to my corner. Tears are now streaming down my face, I am terrified. He looks down upon me and then squats. There's something in his eyes, I can't read them very well. "Follow me." He says it slow, and for some reason I trust him. I know he won't hurt me because he's after something important. So, I slowly get up and follow him down the hall to my old room. He slams the door and stares me down. Setting the crossbow on the floor in front of him, he then walks over to a chest and pushes it over making it sound as if he's really doing something to me. "How many walkers' have you killed?" He asks through gritted teeth. I hold up two fingers, shakily. "How many people have you killed?" I shake my head at the question and hold up a zero. Tearing a shelf from the wall he asks me the last and final question, "Why?" His eyes are now on mine.
I suck in air and take a deep breath, "Because my momma and daddy turned into them things."
"Them, things are called walkers," He says back as he comes back to retrieve the crossbow. "Are you just gonna stand there or open that damn window?" He motions toward the window that my bed is under.
"You mean like leave...?" I hug my body tight, he just nods and I smile. All I grab is my bloody bible and a cross necklace, then I crawl across my bed and open the window.
Quickly, he crawls in front of me, "Me first, follow my lead, girl." He climbs out of the window; once he gets out he helps me out. Once I'm on the ground he looks at me putting his finger to his lips and peeks around the corner of the house. "Clear, quietly, follow me." And so I listen to his orders, as we sneak through the leaves and go into the woods as deep as possible before they notice. Both of us hide behind a large tree and he peeks around the corner of it, then, suddenly we start moving again.
Finally, we're far away from my house walking down a dust road. "Grace...my name is Grace Lynn," I say.
"Daryl." He slings the bow across his shoulder. I hold my hand out and he just looks at it, so I finally give up.
"Why did you ask me those questions, Daryl?"
"What's it matter for? Just keep walkin'." He says without making any eye contact.
"Why didn't you rape me?" That was my final question for awhile.
He stops and stands there. "Didn't know I was supposed too," He looks at me and I can see the anger in his eyes. "Why don't you quit askin' questions sunshine and walk!?" He starts walking again and I follow far behind him hugging my bible to my chest. I try to blink the tears from my eyes, while not looking, a walker appears on the road in front of me and starts toward me. I back away as it gets closer and closer to me.
"Daryl!" Falling back on to the ground, I scream his name frantically. And an arrow flies into the head of the walker; it falls defeated on the dirt road. Dust flies up and blood runs from its head leaving a puddle. Daryl makes his way toward the corpse and pulls his arrow out of its head. "Well you gonna get up or just lay there?" He asks. I get up shaking and we start walking again.