1
Daryl runs. Runs for his live. Again.
It seems to him as if he had spent all these years running.
He's tired of running.
Hell, he's tired of everything.
The years have taken its toll.
When did he become so old? Everything hurts, his lungs are burning. He's limping. The bullet wound in his arm is bleeding. And blood drews the walkers. Miserable fuckers, all of them. After so many years, they are still out there. Not nearly as many as in the early years. But still there. Still hungry. Still lethal.
Nobody found a cure yet.
So they are still running around.
Finding new communities.
Leaving them.
Trading with some groups, fighting against others.
Everywhere they come, they find destruction, find fights. Maybe that is the true human nature. Always waging war.
But despite all his bad experiences, he refuses to believe that. He wants to have hope.
There must be a better place.
There must be hope.
He is on a scouting trip. Together with that annoying little shit named Percival. What kind of name is that? Merle would have laughed his ass off, when he heard that name. But that guy was careless and stupid and now he is dead. Another dead man on Daryl's list. Another one he couldn't safe.
They were on there way to a comunnity called 'Cotton Town'. It's said, they produce fabric. And any kind of fabric is rare nowadays. Their clothes are thin and faded. Brittled. They tear easily.
It might not be most important thing in the world, but new clothes are a rarity these days.
And Daryl for sure doesn't want to run around naked.
The founder of Cotton Town has revivid a museum, The Georgia cotton museum. The old machines run without electricity. They shall have a spinning mill and they weave fabric.
Percival and Daryl were sent by Rick to make inquiries about this community. Rick, the master of stupid decisions. Rick, their fearless leader.
But he's family.
That's the reason, Daryl stays.
He's accustomed to be with men who choose for him. His dad. Merle. Rick.
And now Rick wants to know who the leader of this 'Cotton Town' community is. And wants to know, whether they can make a kind of deal. Trading. He wants to know, what this community might need.
So he sent Daryl and Percival out for a scouting tour.
They travelled for about two weeks without any problems.
And than they ran into this group of marauders.
Percival shot first. Daryl wasn't able to stop him in time.
And now he's dead and Daryl is wounded and on the run.
Chased by killers and walkers.
That's his life.
His eyes take in his surroundings.
He needs a place to hide.
A place to rest and to stitch up his wound.
He's exhausted.
Suddenly he hears a sharp whistle and a rope ladder dangles from the tree in front of him.
"Hey Mister! Can you climb up here?"
It's a young voice.
"I'll try", he mutters under his breath.
The tree is high, Daryl feels slightly dizzy when he looks down.
Breathless he drops to the wooden ground of a tree house, his injured arm clutched to his side.
"Let me see your arm", the voice of a girl breaks through the clouds of his exhaustion. Daryl tries to focus on the girl, but he closes his eyes and drifts into unconsciousness.
When he wakes up again, his arm is wrapped in clean cloth and he's tied. Two kids are facing him. It's hard to tell, how old these kids are. You have to grow up fast in this hellish world. Maybe ten or twelve. Daryl can not guess. Both kids have blue eyes and short hair. The boy holds a sharp looking hunting knife, aiming at him. The girl examines his bag.
"Who are you"; he croaks. His throat is dry.
"Who are you?" the girl returns the question.
"Daryl Dixon. Thanks for taking care of me."
"Is nothing. I had to stich you up. But you should be ok." The girl explains and holds a bottle of water to his mouth and he drinks greedily.
Daryl looks around. "Your home?"
The boy shakes his head no. "Just a safe place. We have them everywhere in the area."
"Hunter! Are you crazy? You can't tell him shit like that."
"And you must not swear. Mommy makes you wash your mouth with soap."
"Only when she knows, you crawler."
Daryl smiles at this exchange.
"Why were you running? And why were you injured?"
"Ran into trouble with some men. They killed a friend of mine. I could escape. But they followed. That's why I was running."
"How many men?"
"I saw seven. Maybe there were more. Why do you want to know?"
"We have to be prepared."
"Smart one, aren't you?"
The girl grins. "Gotta be."
Daryl's heart clenches at this familiar phrase.
The kids look similar. "You are twins?"
The girl looks annoyed. "Does that matter anything?"
"Rose, no need to be rude", the boy brakes in.
"Oh Hunter, you are such a sweet baby boy. Just try to be tough. For once in your life. He can be a killer. A mean madman. And I can be as rude as I want. I'm not scared."
"Maybe you should be", Daryl drawls. "There are killers out there, both human and not. There are infections and diseases. I'm not a threat. Untie me and I'm on my way again. I won't do you no harm. But there are others out there. And you are kids. You should be afraid."
The temperate boy with the piercing blue eyes waves with the blade. "Maybe we are kids. But we are smart, you said it yourself. And we know our way around all different kind of weapons. We can use them since we can walk. And believe me, we won't hesitate to use them. We have used them before. We are more than capable to survive. We can cope with walkers and with killers. And if it has to be, even with both at the same time."
What a world, Daryl wonders. Those are kids, talking about killing, about being capable to survive in this shitty new world. He sighs.
"Look kids, untie me and I'm out of your hair. I just want to find that community and than I want to head back to my people."
The kids look slightly alarmed. "What community?" the girl asks with a stern voice.
"This Cotton Town community. I was send by our leader to look for this place, to see wether we could make some deal. Cloth in exchange for...something."
"Where is your home than?"
Home... Daryl has no home. Just a place to live in. The only place that was home is long gone.
"We are settled up in the north, about two weeks travelling from here. Can I go now? Where are your parents anyway?"
"Home", is the girls short answer.
"What shall we do with him?" The boy whispers to his sister.
"Shit, I don't..."
She is interrupted by yellings deep down under the tree house.
"He has to be here somewhere!"
The two kids look down and see a bunch of ragged looking men down there.
"How many?" Hunter asks silently.
"I count seven", Rose replies.
"Mister, are those the men you ran into?"
"When you untie me, I can tell", Daryl whispers.
The kids exchange a glance and after a small hesitation, Rose nods.
Hunter unties Daryl, who peeps down. "Holy shit, that is high!" he mumbles. "Yes, those are all the guys."
The kids act immediately, grabbing two bows, that were hanging at the wall and start to let arrows fly with deadly precision.
Daryl is speechless. Seconds later seven dead bodies litter the ground. The killers never realized what was happening to them.
"I think, it's safe now", Hunter says. "Let's go."
"Come on you lazy butt", Rose patts Daryl's shoulder, who sits on the floor like he's frozen.
"That was...", Daryl doesn't know what to say.
"That was nothing, now come on, old man. We don't have all day."
"Where do we go?" Daryl asks Hunter, once he has solid ground under his feet again.
"Home. Cotton Town", the boy answers.