Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Walking Dead, AMC or anyone/anything else. This is purely for entertainment purposes and is fiction created by me. No copyright infringement intended on anything associated with this account. This story does not reflect the actual series and doesn't claim to be anything but me having a bit of extra time on my hands getting the mental dialogue from my make believe stories in my head on paper (or computer that is). Any and all original characters created by me are not and do not resemble any known person(s). If you have any concerns or questions about what I've written please contact me and I will be happy to discuss anything.

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DAWN OF A NEW DAY

**authors note- Compared to my other fan fiction stories…this story contains material of a more graphic nature than some of the others I've written. Like all of my stories, is intended only for mature audiences only.

Chapter 3

A few hours passed before Daryl was finished working on the car initially started by John. Jackson had been in and out of the garage, running a few errands and had settled back in his office to work on paperwork. Daryl assumed John had gone home sick. Daryl carefully backed the car out into the lot and parked it on the ready line for pick up. Walking back into the vehicle bay, he headed towards the front customer counter and hung the keys up on one of the hooks. He was startled by a blood curdling scream.

Daryl's heart was beating so hard it was almost all he could hear as the adrenaline shot through his body. He ran to the back of the shop towards Jackson's office. Daryl had never heard anyone scream like that before. It gave him the chills. When he approached the doorway of the office he saw Jackson struggling in his chair with John hovered over top of him, attacking him.

"JOHN! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOIN'? GET OFF HIM!" Daryl yelled as he lunged towards John and attempted to pull him off of Jackson.

John shoved Daryl and turned towards him as Daryl stumbled backwards. Daryl couldn't believe what he was seeing. John's skin was a dull gray with his eyes the same color to match. He looked worse than death warmed over. Daryl had never seen anyone look that sick. Blood poured out of his mouth and ran down his chin. He hissed and growled at Daryl like a rabid dog.

Daryl froze for a moment shocked in disbelief. John lunged towards him and Daryl turned to run back towards the front when he got tangled up in his own feet and went crashing to the floor. Quickly Daryl turned to his back and scurried backwards towards the vehicle bay trying to get his feet back underneath him to stand up as John steadily came at him.

Daryl desperately grabbed for anything in reach and found the tire iron that John had dropped earlier. As soon as John was in reach, Daryl swung the tire iron hard striking him in the face causing him to fall over.

Daryl got back on his feet and kept a firm grip on the tire iron ready to swing again but backed away from John. Daryl watched as John slowly rose back to his feet and turned towards him, still hissing. Daryl's eyes widened when he saw the large gash on the side of his face. Normally a person with that type of injury wouldn't be back on their feet that quickly, let alone be coming back for more.

"JOHN? WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM? STOP MOVIN'!" Daryl yelled at John almost pleading. John was one of the most passive people Daryl had ever met. Until this day Daryl didn't think he was capable of harming a fly and wouldn't believe for a second he would attack Jackson for any reason let alone anyone else if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.

John continued to charge towards Daryl and Daryl found himself backed into the corner. Daryl swung the tire iron as hard as he could striking John in the head. Daryl could hear the loud crack but John kept coming. Both men crashed down to the concrete floor. Daryl had a hold of John's jumpsuit trying to keep an arm's length distance between them as they struggled on the floor. Daryl kept swinging the tire iron at John's head, over and over, blood spattering from the wound with each blow until John finally stopped moving.

Quickly Daryl jumped up and dropped the tire iron back on the floor next to John's lifeless body. Daryl felt all the air leave his lungs as he gasped for air. Daryl stared at John in disbelief. Quickly he stumbled back over to Jackson's office. He didn't have to go inside to see that Jackson was dead. Daryl ran his hands through his hair and backed up against the wall and slowly slid down to the floor. Daryl wasn't sure how long he sat there, his knees bent and elbows on his knees as he supported his head and just stared into Jackson's office. Daryl closed his eyes and hoped he was just having a nightmare. What the fuck just happened? Daryl thought to himself. His eyes welled up with tears and he didn't try to fight them back. He just sat there as tears quietly streamed down his face.

Suddenly a wave of fear washed over Daryl…..he was a Dixon. Dixons weren't known for being fine upstanding citizens. Would any one even believe Daryl's story of what happened? Daryl had a hard time believing it himself and he saw it first hand. Daryl rose to his feet and walked back into the vehicle bay over to the phone. He paced back and forth in front of it for a bit, chewing on the skin around his nails. Daryl was shaking. He kept trying to take slow deep breaths to calm down but it wasn't doing him any good. Daryl picked up the receiver of the phone and then hung it up immediately. Pacing around again Daryl was trying to decide what to do. He turned around and realizing the bay doors were still open quickly ran over to shut them before any customers came by or anyone passing by happened to look in, see what Daryl had done and call the police. Once the doors were closed Daryl rushed back over to the phone just staring at it. Finally he picked up the phone and began to dial a number.

The phone rang and rang but no one answered. Daryl slammed the phone down and cursed. Running his hands through his hair he tried to think. Daryl looked at his watch, it was just past noon. Grady's…..

Grady's was a local bar that both Dixon boys frequented. They were usually open for lunch and since Merle only ate at home when Daryl cooked he figured that's where Merle had to be. Daryl dialed the number, still pacing anxiously as it rang. The phone rang and rang again and just before he was about to give up a woman's voice answered the phone.

"Grady's….." The woman stated.

It threw Daryl off, no women worked at Grady's and Grady himself certainly wouldn't let a customer answer the phone.

"Hello? I can hear someone breathing ya know…do you want something or are you just a pervert?" The woman asked.

Daryl shook his head and his voice slightly cracked as he began to speak… "Merle…." He said as he cleared his throat. "I'm looking for Merle Dixon….."

"Merle? Hang on I think I see him…who is this?" The woman asked.

"What are you his fucking secretary? Just put him on the phone if he's there- it's important!" Daryl barked.

"Alright, alright, hold your horses, damn…" The woman stated. "Merle Dixon…." Daryl could hear her shout. "Some ass with his panties in a bunch is callin' for ya on the phone." She yelled.

Daryl waited impatiently as he heard rustling around on the other end of the phone. He could hear Merle's voice in the background. "panties in a bunch huh sweetness?….well then it must be Daryl!" Daryl heard an eruption of laughter on the other end of the phone.

"MERLE!" Daryl shouted, he didn't have time for Merle's jokes and games.

"Damn boy! Whatcha hollerin' about?" Merle demanded once on the phone.

"Just shut the fuck up Merle and get over to the shop now….come alone." Daryl told him still pacing back and forth as he talked on the phone.

"Fuck that….I'm done workin' there….Tell Jackson I'm done with that shit…it's all you boy…" Merle told him.

"It ain't that Merle…I just need you to get over here it's important." Daryl told him.

"What? Now I got to hold your hand while you work? I ain't got time for that boy…..I'll talk to you later…" Merle said as he was about to hang up the phone.

"MERLE! I AIN'T FUCKIN' KIDDIN' AROUND! SOMETHIN' BAD'S HAPPENED. PLEASE I'M FUCKIN' BEGGIN' YA! I NEED YOU HERE NOW!" Daryl's voice was shaky as he yelled at Merle.

Merle paused for a moment….He could hear the desperation in Daryl's voice unlike he ever heard before and the fact that he used "please" and begged, Merle knew something was seriously wrong. The smile quickly left Merle's face and he stopped joking around.

"Daryl…what the fuck? You alright little brother?" Merle asked quietly as if he didn't want anyone else to hear his concern for his brother.

Daryl, shaking, lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. Blowing out the smoke as he talked he did his best to calm down. "I'm serious Merle…..it's bad….real bad….just get here and don't bring anyone, and I mean NOT ONE of your dumbass friends….this is a family matter…." Daryl told him and slammed down the phone…..