The prison was silent except for the sound of various types of snoring. Hershel's was a loud lawn-mower type of snoring that echoed all across the walls of the prison, turning into a comforting lullaby that helped everyone drift off to sleep. Daryl leaned his bow against the wall of his cell and sat down on his bunk. He needed a shower but didn't want to risk waking everyone up so he peeled his shirt off and let that be enough. He longed to kick his boots off, a feeling that crept on him every night, but knew he would never be able to sleep without feeling like he could be up and ready to fight in an instant. Yawning, Daryl smashed the rock hard pillow with his fist, and laid down.
He stared at the bottom of the bunk above him, and tried not to think about his life. He had been out shooting walkers for much longer than he intended and the sun would be up soon. Now he would be running on fumes all day, even grumpier than usual. Sighing, he squeezed his eyes shut and begged for sleep to come.
Daryl was finally slipping away when it he heard her up above him and wasted no time jumping up and grabbing his bow. He took the stairs two at a time and was halfway up them when he realized that she was screaming her own name.
"Jessi! Help me!"
