Chapter 9
So far the bad weather had held off. Daryl crouched down at the roadside, searching for clues. He could feel Rick, Adewale and the other soldiers staring at the back of him as he did so. It was off-putting to say the least and he was trying hard not to be more rude. At first Adewale had tried to talk to him but he had been told in no uncertain terms to 'piss off' and so now he was stood at the back with Rick watching the man work.
"All your guys got boots on?" Daryl said eventually.
"Yeah, why?"
"This is a pair of sneakers," he said pointing to a dip in the mud. It had been covered over by some ferns so had avoided some of the rain. Even still, there was barely anything there just the toe left.
"You're good man!" Adewale said, clapping him on the shoulder. Daryl flinched at the touch but Adewale didn't notice.
Daryl took off, staying low to the ground so he could see any signs. It was hard, there were footprints everywhere but they all seemed to be heavy duty army boots. Daryl looked at where he expected the next one in relation to the first. He couldn't find it but he walked on a few paces and still couldn't find anything. Daryl stopped and looked back, thinking back to what he'd said earlier about following the contours. Standing back at the initial print he looked at the slope of the land. He knew which way he'd run, as far from the road as possible and ever so slightly downhill and followed that line. After a few steps he found another print, the first one had been a slip causing the angle to look wrong.
He followed it on as he found a few more he strode through the forest with a lot more confidence. The further they got from the road the soldiers footprints thinned too and that made it easier. Rick and Adewale were creeping along after him, the soldiers had been left at the roadside awaiting further instruction. After a couple of hours they hit the creek and as expected the tracks followed along the creek for some time.
As they went Daryl pointed his observations out, the point where they had stopped running and slowed to a light jog, then a walk. Where they had stopped to take a drink from the creek and later on where they had climbed a tree. There had been no walker prints so Daryl figured that they'd chosen to sleep in a tree, it had big enough branches that it would have been possible. But there were other things of note that Daryl was keeping to himself.
By the time night was falling they'd come far beyond where the army had searched. It was only when they lost the light that Daryl took more than a five minute rest. The sergeant had been handing out granola bars throughout the day, having skipped breakfast and lunch, Daryl had barely eaten though. They'd been used to skipping meals on the road, especially when he was out hunting and didn't even notice hunger anymore. Rick though, unused to the long days had wolfed them down and was enthusiastically pulling out MRE's from a backpack while the sergeant started a small fire. Daryl was still checking the next part of the route and had to be asked to come and eat when they were done heating it.
"They've gone up the slope from here," Daryl said as he sat down.
"Why would they do that?" Adewale said, "Doesn't following the creek make more sense?"
Daryl shrugged, "I guess we will see in the morning." He shrugged off his crossbow and set it down before he pulled his backpack from his back and shook out the bivouac. He put it up quickly with the speed of someone who knew what they were doing, strapping the sheeting between a pair of trees with a few bungee cords. He sat down and picked up his mess tin. They ate quietly, they'd pushed hard all day and were all tired. Daryl spent it lost in thought. By the time they had finished eating it had gone completely dark and the other two had to pitch their bivouacs in the dark. Daryl sat tucked into his feeling somewhat smug. Rather than stay up chatting they all decided that although early they were ready for bed. Adewale volunteered for first watch.
Daryl settled down in his sleeping bag and looked over at Rick who wasn't too far away. The former sheriff's deputy was struggling with his sleeping bag which he'd managed to get twisted round himself.
"You're not a camper are you?" Daryl said teasing slightly.
"I used to go camping with Carl," Rick said, finally getting settled and lying down. "But the last few years, we were short staffed, I ended up at work a lot more than I should have been."
"Well if it makes you feel any better, think Carl has had enough camping to last him a while now."
Rick grimaced, "You're probably right." He lowered his voice, "You really think this guy we are looking for is the answer?"
Daryl glanced over at Adewale who was sat some meters away from their little camp. "Well I know it's not a guy we are looking for."
"Wait, what?" Rick questioned.
Daryl nodded. "The sneakers are too small, the indentations shallow. We are chasing a girl. She's good, fast and seems to have some idea of what she is doing. Now what worries me is why she'd run."
"Shit," Rick cursed softly. "Why would they keep that from us?"
"Whatever, I figure it don't matter anyways. Not if what they are saying is true and she's the answer. But she's put her all into getting away and that concerns me."
Rick glanced over to Adewale. "You think we can trust him?"
"No," Daryl said simply.
"Then we'd better be very careful," Rick concluded.
Daryl had nothing to say to that, he rolled over and tried to get some sleep.
Daryl was deep asleep for the first time in days, possibly weeks. But that wasn't to last as Rick shouting his name woke him up. His head shot up from the sleeping bag. It took him a second to make sure he wasn't dreaming but then Rick yelled again, "Daryl! Walkers!"
And then he was awake, up and out of his sleeping bag in seconds, grabbing his boots and shoving his feet into them. He searched for his crossbow but he'd slept with it right by his head. He jumped up, grabbing the bow which had already been loaded. He had a quiver too and slung that over his head and shoulder while he pulled the crossbow into his shoulder. The pistol he'd stuffed into the bottom of his sleeping back was the last, getting tucked into the waistband of his jeans, the knife, he'd slept with that still strapped.
Rick was up ahead a few paces standing in the dark, his shotgun aimed up ahead, he pumped it and shot into the forest, pumped it and shot again. As Daryl's eyes adjusted to the dark he could see the walkers come out of the forest. Beside Daryl the sergeant was pulling himself up and into his boots.
Daryl joined Rick, crossbow raised high, "Fuck, that's a lot of them!" he cursed. They were coming out of the darkness in a big herd. Had to be twenty to thirty of them. Daryl aimed his crossbow and fired a bolt. It entered straight through the nearest one's head going straight through the decaying skull and lodging itself there. The zombie fell back onto another one behind it who groaned as it hit the floor and struggled to heave the body off it.
"There are too many, we need to run," Adewale said, joining them and sending a spray of bullets from his assault rifle at their heads. Some went down but still more were coming.
"Ya think?" Daryl said angrily, loading his bow and firing another bolt.
Rick turned tail and ran, following the creek bed. He sprinted a distance and turned to check on the other two, aiming his shotgun and picking off walkers. He found that Adewale was right behind him but Daryl had taken the time to load the next bolt and fire it. The walkers were nearly upon him before he turned, slung his crossbow onto his back and sprinted after the other two.
Daryl was hot on the heels of the others, but it burned. The cop and the army guy had obviously had to do a bit of running in their time, Daryl figured Rick had been one of those up at five am to get in a five k run before breakfast types, he'd probably done some sort of sport at high school. Daryl reckoned he could outlast them both on a hunt, but on a sprint was a different story. It seemed Daryl only ever ran when he was running for his life. Right now his lungs were raw and his crossbow was bashing into his spine with every step. His knife at his hip was heavy and slapped against his leg, tugging on his belt and threatening to pull his jeans down. His feet, usually so sure, slipped in the mud and then he was down. He landed heavily on his chest, barely getting his arms out in front of him to break the fall. He pushed himself back up again to his feet, ignoring the fact he'd knocked the wind out of himself, slid a bit but pushed on. Rick had turned back, having heard him fall and shouted his name. Rick loaded his shotgun and fired off another couple of shells before pulling his pistol.
Fed up with this Daryl turned drawing his knife. There was a walker right behind him but he slid the knife into the walker's face with practised ease. The next one, coming up on his right, he slashed at. The knife went cleanly through the walker's neck, taking its head completely off its shoulders. Daryl leapt forward, taking the fight to the next one, gripping the knife as he plunged it down into its skull. Daryl could hear shots echoing through the darkness, knew Rick had his back but paid little attention as he focused on the next kill.
Having dispatched the nearest ones he switched his knife for his pistol and started taking potshots at them. He carried on until his entire clip was gone. By that time he realised the remaining ones had been taken out by the other two. They were back to being alone in the forest again, a trail of bodies between them and camp.
Rick came up to Daryl and gave him a quick glance over. "You alright?"
"Get me up in the middle of the night to go running? Fuck that shit," he replied and trudged off in the direction of camp.
Rick and the sergeant caught him up.
"You know you two are pretty impressive," Adewale said.
Daryl just grunted and Rick ignored him. It was obvious that neither were in the mood for small talk so they fell back into a silence as they walked the creek to get back to their camp. Daryl hurt more than he wanted to admit, he just wanted to get back to camp, pack up and get on with the day. There'd be no going back to bed now after that.
They'd run further than he'd thought and it took them a while to find their camp again. When they finally got back to it they realised it was a mess. The walkers had torn through it, Daryl's tarp had come down, as had Rick's which had been ripped right through the middle. Sleeping areas had been trampled on and their little fire pit from the night before was scattered everywhere. But then Daryl noticed which direction they had all come from and cursed. He stepped up to the where the first walkers had fallen and checked the ground intently.
"They've only gone and torn right through our trail!" he grunted and kicked out at the nearest tree. It was a stupid response and he hurt his foot but he wasn't going to let the others know that. Trying not to limp from the throbbing he stormed back down to the damaged camp and sat down. Rick crouched beside him, his own bed completely destroyed and started to gather the scattered wood together again for another fire. Daryl reckoned on them having about two more hours until dawn, none of them would be sleeping now.
