Last On Earth
Chapter 2
Daryl struggled to open his eyes. He was lying on his back facing up to the sky. His eyelids were heavy and there was a throbbing pain in his head. All he could hear was the incessant ringing in his ears. He felt nauseous and it was if his whole body was weighted down, his mind felt in a fog. He slowly reached his hands up and touched his head. He felt something warm and wet. Pulling back his hand he attempted to see what it was but when he tried to focus everything just kept spinning. He closed his eyes again. Come on Daryl, he thought to himself, get it together. What the hell just happened? Daryl struggled again to open his eyes, this time with slightly a bit more of success. At least the world wasn't spinning as much.
Daryl attempted to sit up but only managed to prop himself up on his elbows. Everything started to spin faster again, he thought for a moment that he was surely going to get sick but was able to suppress it. He tried taking a deep breath. The pounding in his head continued and he could feel something running down his cheek from his head. Blood, that's what it is. Daryl thought. In most circumstances it would've been a given that blood was what it was but Daryl was so confused by his current predicament that turned it into a great revelation. Pain radiated down his right side and he could feel his clothing stuck to his body along its path. With a struggle Daryl managed to push himself up to sitting although the upper half of his body continued to sway. He tried to still himself unsuccessfully.
Daryl felt his eyes begin to close again and he fought to stay awake. He furrowed his brow in an attempt to focus his eyes. Finally, although shaky as his vision was, he was able to see his motorcycle and his right leg pinned underneath of it. He leaned forward to push the bike off and pull his leg out but as soon as he attempted to move his leg, a sharp pain shot through his leg as if on fire. Daryl yelled out in pain as he lurched over to his right his upper body falling backwards. He was able to catch himself on his right arm keeping himself from cracking his head back down on the pavement. A wave of nausea washed over Daryl and before he could even think about trying to suppress it, out came the contents of his stomach. Stomach acid burning his throat as it came.
Daryl paused for a moment holding his head in one hand. He sat himself back up putting his hands back on the motorcycle. This time he tried lifting it up and braced himself for the pain. Daryl's arms felt weak like jello and he couldn't budge the bike. He had no strength. Daryl laid back down. All he wanted to do was sleep. He had to figure a way out of this mess he had gotten himself into but his head ached too much to even think straight, he closed his eyes.
When Daryl opened his eyes again he had no idea if he had closed them for a few minutes or a few hours. He didn't attempt to sit up this time, he just stared up at the sky. After a few minutes he looked down the road but saw no one. He slowly pushed himself back up to his elbows, this time his head felt like it weighed a ton. Daryl struggled to focus his eyes down the road. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise. Walker…
Daryl saw exactly what he was afraid of seeing, a walker. How could he protect himself from a walker when he could barely keep his eyes open? Daryl frantically looked around for his crossbow, although he felt as if he was moving as slow as molasses. He didn't see it anywhere but he did see Rick's rifle a few feet away from where he lay. Daryl reached for it and it was barely out of his reach. He tried again straining as he reached for it, the pain from the pull of his leg shot through his body. Daryl hollered out in pain and frustration not thinking the consequences being to alert the walker he was there. The walker began moving a little faster towards him. Daryl made a third attempt to reach the rifle, stretching as far as he could, the pain radiating through his body and causing his head to throb more fiercely.
Daryl grabbed the barrel of the rifle and began to pull it towards him. Daryl felt his eyes begin to roll back in his head. "NO!" he shouted out loud to himself. Daryl fought with all his might to stay awake. He felt as if he could vomit again. He grabbed a hold of the bolt handle opening it to see if it was loaded but it wasn't. Despair ran through Daryl's body, his heart began to beat faster and his breathing became more rapid. He sat back up and reached for one of the saddle bags on his bike and jammed his hand in feeling around for cartridges. Grabbing two cartridges he fumbled as he tried loading the rifle. He felt as if he had lost all coordination. Finally he managed to load the rifle and he turned towards the walker as it steadily approached him.
The earth started spinning before Daryl could get off one round. "STOP!" he scolded himself. He aimed as best he could and fired…..the walker closed in on Daryl. "Fuck!" Daryl thought for sure he was going to be done for. Racking another cartridge into the chamber he aimed again, this time taking a deep breath in attempt to steady himself. Last chance Daryl. This was it, if he missed this time he would be walker food. The walker stumbled towards him now just a few feet way. Daryl pulled the trigger.
The walker paused for a brief second and then fell backwards. Daryl did the same hitting the back of his head on the roadway. Blackness washed over Daryl as he lay there, trapped underneath his motorcycle with the rifle laying across his chest.