So here we have it, chapter 2! Glad you're liking it so far! So here we have Daryl just doing his thaaaang, you know Daryl stuff. ENJOY!
Daryl trudged through the long grass, the dew dampening his jeans. The sun was just coming up, the air was fresh and crisp. I missed the weight off his crossbow on his shoulder, he felt lost without it. It was unusually quiet that morning, he hadn't seen a single walked and the only sounds came from the crickets in the grass.
Daryl came to a road on the other side of the the field he had just crossed. He paused, looking down at the ground where a dark shape stained the tarmac. Blood. A few days old maybe, he followed the direction in which the blood was going and followed the road, his shoulder throbbed and ached, with every step sending shooting pains all down his body. "Son of a bitch," he muttered to himself as another shot of pain cut through him.
The sun was now high in the sky, it was about midday and he saw some cars up ahead parked in the middle of the road. One of the cars was small and black in colour with spikes sticking out of it. Carol. He thought, she must have used this car to get away from Alexandria before she ran into some trouble. There was a few dead bodies scattered around, some pools of blood where bodies had been lying but turned and then moved on. A snarl came from behind him, Daryl spun round, reaching for his crossbow and then realising it wasn't there "shit," he muttered then pulled out a knife from his pocket and stabbed the walker in the temple before watching it fall limply to the ground. The image of Glenn on the floor having his head smashed overcame Daryl and he dropped to the floor and started crying. He just let the tears fall, knowing that no one was around to judge him. He was done with losing people. He sort of understood why Carol wanted to leave but he wished she's told him and he would've gone with her. Daryl sniffed and wiped his nose on his arm and hauled himself off the floor and onto his feet.
"Stop being such a pussy," said Daryl out loud, reassuring himself that he was still alive. He collected his bag off the floor and put the gun in his belt and continued walking. Rick had told him about the car and directed him which way to go after that so Daryl obeyed and walked off through the field where Morgan and Rick had walked. It had been a few days since Carol had left so there wouldn't be many tracks left for Daryl to follow but he would certainly never give up, no matter what.
Daryl reached the barn where Morgan and Rick had let that guy run off, bodies or walkers were dropped everywhere, the flies hovering around them and the smell was empowering. He scrunched his nose in a pathetic attempt to avoid the smell. He withdrew his gun from his belt and cocked it, ready to fire if necessary. He circled the barn and scoped out the area before entering. He heard a few groans come from inside but only one or two walkers were inside to he entered taking them down with his knife. Propped up against the far wall were some weapons, a larger gun, some more knives, a machete and a couple of spears. The spears looked much like the ones that the hilltop made, he picked one up and twirled it in his fingers "For The K-" was carved into the wood at the top of the spear near the blade. Daryl removed the red rag from his the back pocket of his jeans and wiped the dried blood off. "For The Kingdom, Forever Our Ally" it read, he strained his eyes, brushing his sweaty fringe out of his eyes. He gathered up the guns and took one spear, not that he knew how to use it but it looks as if it was made by the Hilltop for supposedly another settlement known as the Kingdom. He walked out the doors and started off in the direction of some tracks he hopes were made by Morgan.
Daryl finally reached a small town, there were quite a few walkers about but nothing he couldn't handle and provided he was quiet, shouldn't be a problem. There was a library nearby and scattered outside were bodies of walkers, been dead a few days but were recent kills, someone had been here recently. There was dried blood on the wall near the door where someone had been leaning against it, he examined it, and although it was dried and fading slightly, it was human blood, not walker blood. Walker blood was darker in colour and not as sticky. He held his gun up, pushing the door open with the tip of it. The building was clear. He closed the door and locked it, deciding that this would be a nice place to camp for the night. In the corner of one of the rooms, he found some used bits of cotton wool with dried blood on and a small pool of blood. Someone was injured and either fixed themselves or someone helped them out. Daryl propped the pillows on the floor up against the wall and he removed his leather vest and shirt. There was blood on his bandage, he had managed to rip a stitch out when killing off those walkers. He removed the dressing and replaced it with one that Rick had packed for him and then shoved some beef jerky into his mouth, chewing loudly. He lay on the floor, the pillow cradling his head and fell into a deep sleep.
Daryl jolted upright and groaned as the stitches in his shoulder ripped his skin. He was sweating and breathing heavily. Thoughts of Negan and the death of Glenn circled his brain, spiralling him into confusion. He hugged his knees into his chest and rested his forehead against them. When he recovered he clambered on his knees. His shoulder was burning, it felt like it had been set on fire and people were stabbing the area with pins. He collected his things and looked around the room. The sun wasn't up fully yet but there was enough light for him to notice a hair that was on the pillow he's used. It was short and grey, silvery almost, definitely not one of his. Carol. His heart jumped, it must've been Carol, Carol had been here. Not for a few days but she'd been here and she was injured. Daryl went into panic mode and scrambled up on his feet, flinging his bag over is uninjured shoulder and picking up his gun and the spear. Daryl rushed outside looking for clues, he had no idea where she had gone and in what direction. He scanned the area, all of the dead walkers. One walker was in a heap on the floor after falling from a height, obviously hung himself when he was alive and then turned. The rope around his neck had be cut, with a knife or something of that sort. Daryl thought long and hard, someone must be with Carol, maybe Morgan found her. Carol wouldn't have bothered climbing up to kill a walker that wasn't doing any harm, someone like Morgan however, probably would. Daryl thought back to the church when the group was discussing taking out the saviours and Morgan was talking about how all life in precious, "bullshit." said Daryl thinking about Morgan's philosophy. He took a deep breath and looked up at the sky which was a beautiful pink and orange colour as the sun started to rise. Daryl found a hoof print in the dirt by the library. One of them had a horse. He looked at the direction the track was pointed and started in that direction, Daryl figured that was his best bet. Sudden dread came over Daryl that he was on the wrong trail and it was leading him somewhere dark and he wondered whether that was even Carol's hair at all. Pushing the negative thoughts aside, he started forward hoping he'd find a sign that she was still alive.
Daryl had a lot of time to think things over as he walked down the road. He thought about Denise, how he had failed to protect her and his blood boiled at the thought of Dwight and how Daryl had tried to help him but instead, Dwight stole his bike, his crossbow, killed Denise, captured Glenn and Michonne, shot him in the shoulder and stole his crossbow again. He raged, his cheeks burning hot and his fists turning white as he clenched them hard. He let out a long breath and calmed himself, he let his mind drift to Carol. He smiled a little at the thought of her, her name, her eyes, the way she looked out for him, her gentle touch, her body. His mind drifted. He wished he had had the courage a while ago to tell her how he felt about her when he had the chance. But Daryl being Daryl was too shy and too proud to admit that he could have sappy feelings for someone. He had never cared this much for anyone before in his life and it pulled on his heart strings. Daryl hadn't been paying attention to where he was walking at jumped at something thumped a couple of metres ahead of him.
Finally paying attention, Daryl listened and a snarl came from inside the blue container. Just a walker. There was a walker lying dead on the floor with the skin of it's skull half pulled off, this kill had been a struggle he thought. Maybe it was Carol who killed it, she must've struggled if she was injured. Lying not far away was the body of a man. He hadn't turned as what killed him had been a gunshot to the head. He examined the body, he had several gun shots wounds on him, he had been shot several times before the bullet entered his head. He saw the man's gun and lifted it, taking a close look at the handle. Carved into the handle was a baseball bat with barbed wire wrapped around it. He instantly dropped it and took a step back, he gasped and tried to steady his breathing. The dead man was a saviour. Thoughts of Negan came flooding to him again and he couldn't shift them. His body started shaking, his muscles contracting rapidly. Daryl called himself and took another look around at his surrounding. There were to spots of blood on the ground lying not far away from the saviour. He looked at the spots, embedded in the tarmac were two bullets, someone had been shot twice. Daryl stood up and thought of all the possible things that could've happened at the scene. There wasn't enough blood on the floor to suggest that the person who had been shot had bled out and turned, still though, dread surged through him, what if Carol had been shot and she'd turned. His heart was racing again and tears started building in his eyes. Daryl wasn't much of a crier but he'd done a lot of crying recently, everything that has gone on had all happened so fast and this was obviously the delayed reaction to the trauma he'd been through. He fought back the tears, not allowing himself the satisfaction of crying again.
Droplets of blood let Daryl off the road, where he found a series of hoof prints, the same size as the ones he'd seen at the library. Only this time, there were boot marks as well and another set of good prints. He examined the boot prints. There was one print that caught his eye, one that was familiar, as if he'd seen it before. Carol...
• END OF CHAPTER!
Sorry if there's any typos by the way :') Don't forget to leave a review!