A Ragged And Dangerous Front
She was just standing there, playing with a purple flower in her hand. She was completely oblivious to the horde descending upon her. And Daryl was almost paralyzed by fear. The rest of the group just stood there watching from the rooftop. They looked horrified, but no one moved. No one wanted to help her.
But they didn't understand. She didn't know they were coming. She couldn't hear them. Daryl couldn't wait any longer, he had to fight for her. He couldn't lose her again.
So he ran, as fast as he could. He took a running leap off the roof, just barely managing not to break anything when he landed. He took off in her direction. He kept yelling her name even though he knew it was of no use. She would never hear him.
The horde got to her seconds before he did. That's when her screaming started. He tried to beat them off with his crossbow, but it was no use. Daryl watched in terror as the monsters sunk their teeth into her flesh. She wouldn't stop screaming.
She looked at him and kept signing his name. Daddy! The walkers began taking chunks out of her little frame. Daddy help me!
He felt walker hands start to grab him and he struggled against them. They were pushing him down. He could no longer hear the screams of his little girl. The walker in front of him snarled. His face was covered in blood, pieces of meat were hanging off his hands as they reached for him.
"Daryl!" The walker spoke! When the hell did they learn to speak? "Wake up!" The walker started shaking him yelling at him. "Stop hitting me and wake the hell up!"
Daryl took in a ragged gasp as his eyes flew open. He bolted upright and took in the scene around him. Everyone was sleeping. T-Dog was staring at him with some concerned look on his face.
"You ok, man?"
"Get the fuck off me!" Daryl shrugged the man's hands off his shoulders.
"You were having a nightmare. I was just trying to help you before you brought the dead down on us. Jeez..."
"You need to back the fuck up!"
Daryl felt claustrophobic. There were too many people in the room. He needed air. He snatched his crossbow up and took off outside. Even as the cold air cooled his body, it couldn't stop his racing heart. He hurried over to his motorcycle and dug through the saddlebags, searching for his most important possession. He sat on the seat and stared at the crumbled picture in his hands. It was taken a few years ago. He was sitting there with both his son and daughter. She was smiling brightly at the camera, while his older child was trying to pull off his best mean mug.
His chest tightened. If he had anyway to getting to his children, he would. But his dumbfuck of an ex took them both overseas for a vacation with her new rich boyfriend, said she was going to give them some culture. Fucking cunt.
Daryl wished there was a walker around so he could take his anger and frustrations out on it. He was beginning to hate the night. And he certainly hated his dreams.