A/N: Thanks for your responses guys! Nice to know people enjoy it :) The story will be in third person from now on, sorry for the switch but it just suits better I think, seeing as there are several characters now, rather than just from my OC's perspective in the first chapter. Anyway, read on!

CHAPTER II

The geek's teeth were inches from his throat, its disgusting saliva mixed with old blood dripping onto his neck and slowly pooling above his chest. His knife was only millimeters away from his hand and his fingers felt like they would pop out of their sockets from stretching so far to reach it, but he couldn't get to it. The geek had him pinned down good, and the only thing stopping it from taking a chunk out of him right then and there was his other arm, barely holding it at bay by its nasty, half torn out throat.

Inches from death, and yet Daryl Dixon thought only one thing; Merle's gonna kill me. The thought of his brother was the only reason he was really putting up a fight in the first place. The chinaman had asked for his help on a run into the city to get some extra supplies before they made their move to search for the CDC. Alotta good that's gonna do, Daryl thought, I'll be eating their brains before they get there.

"Daryl!" Glenn's voice called out from somewhere behind him. "Daryl, what do I do? I don't have any bullets left!"

"Get ma fuckin' knife!" Daryl grunted back. It was a good thing that dumb kid could run fast, otherwise Daryl wouldn't have had any use for him.

A strangled cry was the chinaman's response and Daryl knew it wasn't good news. So both of them would die.

Just as the geek's persistent pushing on Daryl's arm was about to pay off, the strangest thing happened. The geek lifted it's head, sniffed the air with it's mottled nose and tilted it's head, as though listening to something. Daryl seized the opportunity to shuffle himself over a few inches and finally grasp the cool wooden handle of his hunting knife before swinging his arm up in a large arch and burying it hilt-deep into the zombie's skull. The heavy body fell limp on top of him and he pushed it off with a grunt before jumping up to search for Glenn. The group probably wouldn't trust him as much as they did if he left the boy behind.

"What was that?" Glenn asked as he stepped around the body of his own walker. It seemed his assailant had shown the same behaviour as Daryl's.

"I got no idea," Daryl mumbled, wiping the blade of his knife on the clothes of his latest kill. "Let's get the stuff and get outta here."

Glenn gave a curt nod and began to gather the items he had dropped during the attack. Daryl walked over to his crossbow that lay on the side of the road and inspected it for any breaks; thankfully, it was fine. As he loaded another arrow, Daryl stopped and gestured for Glenn to be quiet. In the distance, a rumble of noise had begun.

"Is that-"

"Shh." Daryl went into hunter mode and crept towards Glenn, dragging him into the alley and flattening themselves against the wall. Daryl jerked his head toward the other end of the road and Glenn gasped in surprise.

A small girl, lean and short, was running full tilt down the road, hand grasping her wheely suitcase behind her and a satchel banging against her side with every step.

"Leave me alone!" She shouted back to the horde of zombies that pursued her. There was a large bloodstain on her shirt and her jeans were ripped and torn at, tattered material flying behind her as she ran. Her movements were jerky and erratic, one moment going this way, the next turning another way, though the zombies kept coming. Daryl thought she looked much like the rabbits he often managed to shoot for camp, hopping all over the place in their panic. But in the end, he always managed to shoot them right in the eye.

Daryl raised his crossbow and took aim.
"What are you doing?" Glenn hissed sharply, not wanting to alert the zombies.

"D'ya hear how much noise she's makin'?" He grunted back. "That's why th' geeks were distracted before. She's jus' drawin' them out. Besides, there's no way she's gon make it. Looks like she's bit already."

Glenn swallowed loudly. "But- she's alive. You can't just shoot another human being. There aren't many of us left, you know."

Daryl ignored him and lined up the shot. Breath in, breath out. She was almost level with the opening of the alley, but Daryl had a nagging thought at the back of his mind. She was human. Of that there was no doubt. She was alive and kicking, and he was going to end her life. Could he do it? Daryl wanted to be as cut-throat and careless as his brother, because as Merle had told him, that meant survival in these times. But Daryl would be lying to himself if he tried to deny the feeling that killing another human that wasn't in self-defense was wrong. No, he told himself, this is in self-defense. If I don't kill her, she'll die anyway and her screamin' will bring a whole lotta other walkers to kill us too. With that thought in mind, Daryl widened his stance, centered the crosshairs and waited for her to run into his shot, past the entrance to the alley.

The moment came as if in slow motion. As she ran into the alignment of his aim, her hair a curled copper tangle behind her, her head turned as if she had somehow known her life was about to end, and her bright emerald eyes locked on to his. Her face was an open book that read of fear, panic and desperation as her gaze burned holes into Daryl. That crystal clear moment of clarity held Daryl's finger at bay for one wavering moment. But then the moment passed and Daryl pulled the trigger.

Quick as a flash, the arrow flew straight and true towards the girl. But at the last second, a walker jumped forward in an attempt to take a bite out of her. The arrow embedded itself in its skull and it dropped to the ground, dead, for good. Daryl cursed. He'd never missed such a major, sure fire shot like that before. But the anger was short lived as it gave way to fresh fear and urgency. The walkers who had been tailing the girl had been alerted to Glenn and Daryl's presence now; some of them had turned towards them in an effort to pursue some new prey.

"Daryl, we gotta go!" Glenn called. The chinaman was in his element now; running. Daryl followed close behind as Glenn led the way up the alley and through a broken gate at the end. It opened into a small courtyard with high buildings on either side.

"This way!" Glenn beckoned. A small window was smashed in at one side and Glenn slid in effortlessly. Daryl crouched and tried to do the same, though he was less graceful. Within seconds a dozen walkers had caught up to them in the courtyard and scrambled to reach them inside the window opening. In their urgency to get to them, the walkers made it difficult for each other to get through as they each tried at the same time to squeeze inside. Daryl stabbed one at the front with a knife and darted backwards as Glenn lugged open a heavy door behind them.

On the other side of the door was a trashed pharmacy; its merchandise was spilt everywhere and most of the important stuff had been taken. A small shelf of bottles at the back of the store lay untouched and Daryl quickly stuffed a bunch of them in his pocket as they passed.

"What are you doing?!" Glenn cried, his hand already on the front door to leave.

"Gettin' what we came for; supplies. Might as well," Daryl shrugged.

Glenn shook his head and they exited the store, turned right and jogged down the road. It was empty of walkers for once; Daryl knew it was because that stupid girl had lured them all to herself. He supposed he aught to thank her for that. Her death would have been a good way to thank her, instead of her turning into one of those things. But he'd stuffed that up, hadn't he?

"Do you think any of these cars have any gas and keys left in them?" Glenn asked as they rounded another corner and were further away from the horde.

"'Spose they might,"

"Let's check, it's getting late."

Glenn was right. They'd said they'd be back before midday and the sun was already at its highest point in the sky. Daryl helped the boy search the cars that littered the street. Lady luck was with them, it seemed, as they eventually came across a pickup truck with keys in the ignition and a half tank of gas left.

"I'll drive," Glenn said at once, hopping into the driver's seat and turning the car on.

Daryl walked around to the passenger door and hopped in, cradling his crossbow in his lap and notching another arrow. On the long drive back to camp, haunting emerald eyes swam at the forefront of Daryl's mind. On the one hand, he was relieved he hadn't had to kill another human being today. But on the other hand, she was most likely walking around with her emerald eyes now a hazed glaze, aimlessly searching until another meal wandered into the city. Daryl felt an unfamiliar wave of guilt roll over him. He'd been away from his brother too long; he was starting to go soft. The bitch deserved it, he reminded himself, irritably, she set those geeks loose on us. Content to let that be the end of it, Daryl didn't think about it any longer. So, when they got back to camp, he returned to his usual routine and set about finding some squirrels, ignoring the probing questions and curious looks he got when Glenn told the rest of the group about the girl they'd seen. Daryl could see the judgment in their eyes, the distrust and the fear. I did it for ya'll! He wanted to yell at them. I didn't shoot her for the fun of it. He was the only one keeping this camp alive, he swore. So instead of sticking around and putting up with the strange looks and glares, he went back to the only place he felt comfortable in this whole goddamn mess; the woods. There weren't many squirrels about, but he did find some berries and edible flowers that he snacked on as he wandered about, killing time. Tomorrow morning the camp would be moving out to search for the CDC. Until then, though, Daryl was going to stay as far away from them as possible. He wasn't exactly sure what was keeping him there, probably some misguided sense of responsibility because they couldn't fucking feed themselves without him. Merle and him had been planning on robbing them blind the second they turned their eyes, but that plan had gone down the drain along with the key to Merle's handcuffs. Daryl had thought about leaving a few times over the past week, but he'd never plucked up the courage to. Alone, he wouldn't be able to sleep properly, wouldn't have people at his back, people to cook and clean for him. But with these people, he could get some decent shut-eye every now and then at least. Sometimes though, the people there made all of that seem not worth it. That fucking cop, for one.

When Daryl wandered back to camp after hunting down a few furry animals (two squirrels and a white rabbit that reminded him of the girl in Atlanta, if only he'd managed to shoot her as easily), Shane came up to him.

"Where have you been?" He demanded at once, hard eyes and stony face glaring down at him. Simmering just underneath the surface, Daryl could see the rage, sitting there just waiting to boil over.

"What does it look like?" Daryl replied dryly, pushing past him and dumping his kills beside the campfire. They were cooking up all of their leftover meat and supplies so that they could eat on the road without worrying about cooking. Carol and Lori were washing some meager vegetables and averted their eyes after nodding their thanks.

"It looks like you've been wastin' time out there, havin' everyone out here wonderin' where you been." Shane gave Daryl's shoulder a shove to make his point loud and clear. Daryl resisted the urge to cuff him a few blows and knock some sense into him. The man couldn't see past his own blind pride.

"My time wastin' got us some dinner for another night. Whata you been doin'?" Daryl ground out through his gritted teeth instead, holding his ground and keeping Shane's gaze.

Shane held the stare for a few tense moments, and Daryl wasn't sure whether he would use his clenched fists or let it go. But then, Shane's eyes lowered and a mocking grin appeared on his face. "We're just packing up, man." The switch had flipped. His need to keep up his friendly exterior appeared to outweigh his instinctual desire to smash Daryl to the ground in some macho show of dominance. "Make sure you tell someone where you go next time." With that, Shane turned around and stalked away.

"Asshole," Daryl mumbled as he stomped back to his tent. Lori gave him a sharp glare as he walked past. Daryl didn't know how she could put up with sleeping with that guy, but at least someone was getting laid around here.

Night seemed to descend upon the camp more quickly than it had before the world ended. Soon Daryl found himself seated by his own small fire, poking around some rabbit meat on his plate, not really eating, just staring into the fire and thinking about Merle. Daryl wasn't the cheeriest person on the planet on a good day, but thinking about his brother made him downright unapproachable. It seemed Glenn didn't pick up on the thoughtful scowl that graced Daryl's face. The lean boy wandered over nervously, picking his way through the various bushes and camp equipment before standing opposite the hunter.

"Uh, Daryl?" Glenn asked in a meek voice.

Daryl blinked away the last remnants of deep thought and wiped his face of emotion, looking up at the boy with a blank visage. "What do ya want?"

Glenn hesitated a moment. It was clear to Daryl that the boy had something on his mind, but he stayed silent and waited for him to spit it out. Finally, Glenn spoke up. "I've been thinking about what happened today…" he started, wringing his hands and shifting from foot to foot. His discomfort at being alone with the hunter spoke volumes. "Did you shoot that girl? I turned away for a moment and then the walkers were on us, but I can't shake the thought of her from my mind. You were right, she was going to become one of them. I just hope you managed to stop that from happening… you did, right?"

Daryl studied Glenn's face, wondering if it was his fear of him or fear of what had happened today. He decided it was a combination, and that either way it didn't matter. He was about to tell Glenn that he had missed, that he'd hit a walker instead. But something stopped him. "Yeah," Daryl started instead. "Yeah, I hit her right in th' head. Waste of an arrow but it had t' be done."

Glenn looked to the ground for a moment and nodded. When he looked back up at Daryl his eyes had cleared and he gave the hunter a small smile. "Good, I think. I guess that's one less walker to worry about. She… she deserves that much."

"Damn straight," Daryl grunted and popped another piece of squirrel in his mouth. Glenn gave another nod and turned to walk away. "You did good out there, chinaman." Daryl called after him. Glenn turned to give him an acknowledging grin and walked away with a hop in his step. Daryl shook his head.

The next morning was a flurry of activity. As Daryl exited his tent and stretched away the knots in the tight coils of muscle in his shoulders and back, the adults of the camp were scurrying around like ants, moving things, making plans. There was a high level of nervousness and anticipation; nobody knew what to expect. The trip to the CDC could really go either way; civilization and hope, or desolation and nothingness. The children, on the other hand, were using the activity as an excuse to horse around a little, daring to venture further away from camp than usual while the adults weren't looking. As Daryl's camp was further back, his eyes followed them as they passed by further into the woods than their parents would have liked. Carol and Lori were busy washing the last of the clothes to notice and Rick was in the middle of a heated conversation with Shane. Daryl was about to call out to them to look after their little ankle biters themselves, but Glenn hurried after the children before he could do so.

Daryl started to pack up his own meager supplies and was halfway through when Rick approached him.

"Daryl," the cop greeted. Daryl grunted in response, too busy folding up the large tarp of his tent. "I just wanted to come over and make sure you're coming with us to the CDC. I know you might not want to after what happened to your brother," Daryl gave the man a dark look of warning, "but, as I'm sure you know, you're vital to this group. I know Shane doesn't show it, but he knows it too. We need you Daryl and I hope that you have seriously considered staying with us."

"Don't get your panties in a twist, I'm comin'," Daryl replied, rolling his eyes. "Save your pretty speeches for someone else."

Rick's shoulders sagged with relief. Daryl noticed the bags underneath his eyes and the way he held his face; grim and serious. He had stepped in to be the leader of this ragtag group and it looked like quite a burden. Daryl didn't envy the man.

"Thanks Daryl, I-"

"Daryl!" A voice shouted from the depths of the wood. "Daryl! Bring your crossbow!"

The hunter rolled his eyes once more. Would it ever end? Rick was in full cop mode by the time Daryl grabbed his crossbow and started to jog into the woods. Once inside, they found a very distraught Glenn holding Carl and Sophia at bay as they peered into the branches of a nearby tree. Daryl sauntered over with Rick hurrying quickly behind.

"What's the problem?" Daryl asked.

Glenn pointed into the tree.

A small figure was curled into a ball in the fork of the branches high in the tree top. The gently swaying leaves hid her face from view but it was clear she wasn't in good condition. Her jeans were torn and her shoes had left bloody footprints on her way up the tree.

"I saw her move!" Carl piped up with Sophia nodding her agreement.

"We think it's just a walker that got stuck," Glenn explained. "We can't reach her with a knife, and we didn't want to shoot her because of the noise. Do you think you could make the shot from here?"

Daryl was about to get his crossbow ready but something stayed his hand. A gust of wind blew through the clearing and moved the branches of the tree slightly, revealing the face of the figure in the tree.

"Aw shit," Daryl cursed.

It was the girl. So the walkers had gotten to her. How had she gotten all the way out here? Daryl glanced at Glenn to see if he recognized her but so far he didn't seem to. Maybe it would be better if he didn't know.

"Move outta the way, chinaman." Daryl grunted, positioning himself at the foot of the tree. From that angle, her head was in clear view. Her porcelain face was smeared with dried blood and grime, giving her an animalistic look as her body clung desperately to the tree. If Daryl didn't know any better, he'd have said she looked almost alive up there, her body completely intact save for the scratches, blood and dirt. She was the best looking walker he'd seen so far.

"Damn shame," he mumbled, taking aim once more.

"Come on, Carl," Rick murmured behind him.

"But I wanna see!" Carl cried, struggling with his father.

At the shout from the boy, the figure in the tree stirred. From Daryl's vantage point, her eyes opened and she seemed to attempt to get her bearings, blinking her eyes groggily and raising her head. One second, Daryl had her in his sights once more, and the next, she had fallen straight out of the tree with a loud whump!

"Fuck!" The girl yelled.

"She's alive!" Sophia screeched at the top of her lungs, running behind Glenn fearfully.

Daryl couldn't believe his eyes. The woman lay on the ground, her arm beneath her, bent at a painful angle. Her head rose and she spat out a mouthful of dirt and leaves. How was she alive?

"Hey- you're that girl! The one from Atlanta!" Glenn called out, confusion evident in his voice.

Daryl was just about done with all these surprises lately. He raised the crossbow and aimed at her head. It seemed he was doing that a lot lately to the red head. "Don't move."

The girl seemed to realize her situation. "Couldn't even if I wanted to." Daryl glanced down at her arm that she was trying to wriggle free from underneath herself. It looked broken and she couldn't use it to try and push herself up properly.

Rick cautiously approached the woman and investigated her situation. "Are you armed?" The man asked, one hand on his holster and the other grabbing her satchel from her.

"No, I'm not armed. Unless you count the pocket knife in that satchel you just confiscated." The girl bit back at him, her voice thick with pain.

"How did you get here, then?" Daryl demanded of her, not lowering his crossbow. "I saw you in Atlanta, a huge mob of geeks on your ass. No way you made it outta there alive."

The girl turned her head and peered at him, her emerald eyes squinting. "You! You're the one who shot that zombie behind me! You…" her eyes widened, "you saved my life."

Daryl couldn't decide what was more awkward; being thought of as a hero, or the fact that he had actually been trying to end her life.

Yay! An update! Thanks for reading :) Please review ! Let me know if Daryl's character is accurate or not. Thanks x