MIGHTIEST OF GUNS

CHAPTER FOUR

At the sight of the biters, time seemed to come to a standstill for Kristen. That, or the adrenaline and fear pumping through her bloodstream was causing her senses to act out in overdrive. Even in the growing darkness, she could make out minute details on the approaching hoard. The filthy clothing, the mangled limbs, the shuffling gait of their movements. Driven forward by nothing but hunger and need. She would describe it as primal, if the quality wasn't only limited to the living. With the breeze blowing in their direction, she could catch a faint whiff of their bodies rotting from the inside out.

Instinctively, she turned back to make a dash for the station wagon. The fear she was experiencing now was nothing like before. Every cell in her body felt electrified. She was choking on her lungs trying to get a breath. All her thoughts turned to Sean, Liam, and Val.

As though knowing her plan of movement before she even made it, two strong arms wrapped around her torso, bringing her to a halt. A scream was building in her throat when Daryl firmly pressed a hand over her mouth, silencing her. She glared at him, a mixture of confusion and rage. He looked at her pointedly, making sure that she'd keep quiet after he removed his hand. The biters were still a good five yards away, but getting closer with every second. He needed to make sure that she wasn't going to draw any added attention to them.

His words came out in a low hiss, gentle but severe. "Look girl, if you go runnin' over to that car now, don't you think that's gonna draw about a dozen of those things with you? No offense, but what good protectin' them was ya gonna be anyways? They're going to be fine." He half thought that she was going to try and break his nose again.

She said nothing though. Still inside his arms, she swayed slightly as though she were on the verge of passing out. Her eyes continually darting back and forth between the station wagon and the approaching walkers. He wasn't sure if she was even hearing anything he said. All he knew was that the hoard was getting closer and they couldn't just stand there waiting to get eaten.

He took one last glance at the station wagon. He couldn't see any of the McCoys through the windows. Sean would have had the sense to tell them to all get down. Probably hidden under those blankets they had packed. As long as they were still and quiet, the biters would just pass by. Him and Kristen though? They needed to get out of the open and fast.

He grabbed her hand and ran, half dragging her behind him. With every step she took away from the station wagon she felt as though she were betraying her family. Felt as though she was creating a distance that none of them would ever be able to surmount. She had been prepared to run right into that approaching mob and die trying to protect her family. And most likely die uselessly. If Daryl hadn't been here is that what she would be doing right now?

They came upon a large, yellowing RV. One that still offered a good vantage point of the station wagon. Daryl grabbed the handle and yanked but it didn't budge. He had assumed the old piece of shit had to be abandoned. He swore and started to run behind it, still clutching Kristen's hand. A part of him was afraid that if he let go, she'd run right to her family anyways.

A moment later they heard the soft click of the door unlocking. It cracked open a few inches and a face appeared. "If you're coming, quick get in. Before those things see you." Daryl grabbed the handle and silently swung the door open. Pushing Kristen inside ahead of him, he followed her up the steps.

They were greeted by an old man in a bucket hat and two young blonde women. The five of them stood in silence, their expressions grim. Kristen ran to the window, her eyes trained on her siblings. Daryl had expected her to shake or sob but she was as still as stone. He joined her at the window.

Things seemed to be going alright. He had been right in assuming that it was just a migration, not a hunting trip. These walkers had passed hundreds and hundreds of abandoned cars at this point. As long as the people here weren't stupid or drew attention to themselves, they'd be okay.

There were, of course, some carnage though. Daryl could hear the sound of screaming casualties. He made a mental note to be alert for any people that might be carrying the infection after tonight. He thought of Merle, probably passed out in his tent. He expected to be washed over with a wave of concern, He wasn't.

A biter brushed against the side of the RV, clearly a bit intrigued by the size and shape. The two blondes stifled a whimper as the creature banged against the aluminum siding. Kristen barely seemed to notice. Her fear clearly preoccupied.

The biter lingered at the steps leading to the door. Reached up and tried the handle. Once, twice, three times. The old man had at least had the sense to lock it behind him. Daryl reached to his belt, pulled a hunting knife from its sheath. He looked around for anything else that was sturdy enough to swing. There was a hammer on the floor under the RV's dining area. He motioned to Kristen and silently she nodded, reaching for it. He took it from her, handing her the hunting knife. He wanted her to have something to defend herself with but knew that he could deal greater damage with the mallet.

His grip around the handle tightened as the biter continued to investigate the door. He half considered pulling the door open himself and just ending it. Taking out the biter would be nothing compared to the torture of suspense. But he had to think of the other people in the RV, these strangers, Kristen. He had to think of the dozens of other walkers out there that would jump at the chance to have a meal.

Just as the suspense was starting to drive him mad, the biter lost interest and wandered away. A silent, collective sigh was released throughout the RV. The two blondes wrapped their arms around one another.

The brief respite from worry was broken by a sudden sob. Wordlessly at the window, Kristen gestured to the station wagon. A small group of biters, four or five, had gathered around the car. Pulling away at the exterior wooden panels, trying to claw their way inside. Daryl could only imagine that it was the sobs of the little girl that drew their attention to the inside of the vehicle.

Kristen already had the door open and was running outside when he caught her. Forcefully he pulled her back inside, side stepping her to get through the narrow doorway. "Stay here. Lock the door behind me."

Luckily, the majority of the hoard had passed by. If he could just take out these half a dozen, then everything should be okay…

A shot rang out.

From the front seat, Sean made the misguided decision to fire the gun through the windshield at a biter that had crawled on top of the hood. The creature was dead, but the inside of the car was now littered with broken glass. The inside of the car was exposed. Daryl broke into a sprint. With the glass broken, Val's screams were easy to hear now.

Sean had removed himself from the front seat and was lifting the gun to fire at two more biters who were trying to climb inside the broken windshield. Daryl swung the mallet, smashing in the skull of the nearest walker. He tried to catch Sean's eye. Tried to silently tell him not to fire the gun. That the reverb of the shot would only attract more of them. But he was too late. The younger man fired three rounds into the faces of the biters on the hood.

Sure enough, a shift in the movement of the traveling hoard could be felt. About a dozen walkers stopped in their tracks and slowly moved towards the sound of the gunshot. The car would soon be overrun. He yelled for Liam to unlock the door. Yanking it open, he reached in and grabbed Val. Holding her in his arms and looking her directly in the eyes he spoke rapidly. "Okay sweetheart, some more of those bad guys are coming. I need you to do something real brave for me okay? Can you do that?" The little girl nodded seriously, her eyes welling with tears. "Good girl. Ya see that big yellow van over there. Now, you're sister is in there and she needs you. You need to go run there. As fast as ya can. She's gonna let you in. Okay? When I say go, you go."

The child nodded again as he placed her on the ground. The biters were a few yards away now. A safe enough distance for the girl to run by unharmed, but he wasn't taking any chances. He turned to Liam and Sean, whom were both armed with the baseball bat and gun respectively. "We gotta distract them. " He took their silence as proof enough that they understood the plan. For a second he wondered if he should be trying to save Liam too but the kid was a man now. Nobody was tryin' to save Daryl Dixon's life when he was 16.

He lifted the mallet to his shoulder and took a step towards the approaching biters, looking over his shoulder at Val for only a split second. "Okay sweetheart, now's time." Turning back to the walkers he swung, "'sup, you sons of bitches." The mallet made contact with the first one, resonating with the sound of crunching bone. Biters weren't really that difficult to kill after a bit of practice. It was just if you got surrounded that you were dead.

He turned to see Kristen outside of the RV, clearly understanding what the plan had been. She scooped Val up in her arms and bolted towards the inside of the van. Whatever happened now, at least he had made that happen.

He glanced over at the other two McCoys. Liam and Sean seemed frozen on the sidelines, either from fear or from the shock at witnessing the man try to solely take down a dozen walkers. He continued to swing, smashing in skulls. He was largely desensitized to the carnage of a decaying human body at this point. Him and Merle had been in worse spots than this. He was trying not to think about Merle right now…

Kristen felt like she had been kicked in the ribs as she watched Daryl run over to the under-sieged station wagon. She pulled at the door only to be held back by the older of the two blondes. The woman had tried to soothe her, rub her hair and tell her that it was okay. "Your boyfriend is going to be fine." Kristen had been too distraught to even bother correcting her.

When she saw Daryl pull the little girl from the car and place her alone on the ground, she understood immediately what the plan was. She unlocked the door and stood ready at the handle. She had meant to wait as long as possible before opening the door, less risk attracting any attention to the RV, but she couldn't wait. She ran outside and met Val halfway. Picking the little girl up, it was a wonder that she didn't crush her sister's ribs, she held so tightly.

Inside, the little girl had composed herself enough to sit quietly. McCoys were pretty good with coping, even the smallest ones. Kristen's thoughts quickly turned to her brothers, namely Liam. Before anyone could think to hold her back again, she kissed Val, grabbed the hunting knife and ran outside.

The biters were still distracted enough by Daryl that she was easily able to silently jog over to where her brothers were crouching in a tree cover. She hissed a greeting, "Liam. Get inside. The RV where Val went. Go." He didn't move. "I get it, you're a man now. But if you aren't gonna fight right now, then go take care of Val." The boy hesitated for a moment before dropping the bat at his sister's feet and quietly hurrying inside. His expression was a mix of fear and shame.

Kristen lifted the bat. "What the fuck are you going to do with that?" Sean's eyes held a somewhat hollowed expression. The biter he had shot before was the first one he took out close up. The blood and brain matter was still splattered in his face and hair. He was in some kind of shock.

"What do you think Seany? I'm gonna swing it."

Kristen stepped out from the brush, her movements much more hesitant than her spoken bravado would expect. Her first biter came at her. The titanium of the bat was heavy and solid in her arms. Luckily, she had some experience with swinging it. At a few drunken assholes who tried to rob the bar after closing time. At a boyfriend who started thinking that no didn't really mean no. At the occasional bookie who would still come 'round the house, breaking in the windows looking to collect on her father's gambling debts.

The same possessive, protective instinct she felt on all of those occasions came flooding back to her and she swung. It didn't matter that in all of those occasions she had never actually made contact with a skull.

The sensation wasn't like she had expected. The skull was brittle, caving in easily enough. The brain mushed around the bat. She cringed at the sight and sound but sure enough, the walker collapsed in a heap.

Slowly, she made her way over to Daryl. Wanting to help him, but not wanting to startle him. It was a good thing that she approached him slowly because she thought he was going to drop the mallet when he saw her. They exchanged no greeting besides the silent widening of his eyes meeting the angry determination of hers.

Wordlessly, they swung until their arms and backs ached and half a dozen walkers around them were reduced to nothing more but heaps of former human flesh and brain. It had been an easy fight, even Kristen understood that. The walkers had been slow and staggered. Half a dozen more and they were all most likely be dead.

She dropped the bat, fell to her knees, and doubled over, waiting to vomit. But it wouldn't come. Instead, her body heaved with quiet sobs. It was just too much. She had thought tonight was the end. The end of everything. She didn't possibly see how they could survive more nights of surviving like this. She blinked fiercely, wiped her mouth, and raised herself up to standing. This was just the way things were now. They would simply have to adapt.

Daryl watched as she regained her composure. Despite moments before helping him take out the walkers, she suddenly looked very small to him. She approached him and silently reached for his hand. He was surprised by how soft hers felt. Grabbing them before, he hadn't noticed. Her voice was quiet, a fraction above a whisper.

"I'm sorry that I'm not better at saying thank you. The kids would most likely be dead if it wasn't for you. I'd most likely be too."

He nodded, muttered what had to be the most awkward 'You're welcome.' He was as bad at accepting thanks as she was at offering it.

She smiled dryly. "And just think, a few hours ago I was worried about owing you for a can of fucking gasoline. I know that dinner wasn't good enough to be worth all this."

Daryl laughed, "Maybe worth it for the beers though."

This time her smile reached her eyes. To his surprise, she didn't release his hand from hers as they made their way to the waiting McCoys in that poor family's RV.

Author's Note: I know this chapter was a jam-packed action/adventure. I promise there will be more cutesy emotional moments and the like soon. Going to follow the season story arc for the most part, obviously quite a few large differences though. Thanks again for all the lovely follows/favs/reviews! xx