Through the shooting pain that seemed to radiate through his entire being, Daryl leapt to his feet as adrenaline kicked in. A mere few feet away from him, a walker was drunkenly staggering towards him, the thing moaning and groaning with it's hands extended towards him, lusting to dig into the fat, muscle and viscera that was all wrapped up as Daryl. All of Daryl's arrows were gone; they had scattered all about the hill as he had fallen. All except one, that is. The one that was pierced through the fatty tissue by his hip. He didn't have time to grimace, or think it over, he knew what he had to do as much as he didn't like it. Daryl reached down and wrapped his fist around the arrow, and as quickly as he could, yanked it out of his side. Like ripping a band aid off. He could feel blood start to trickle down his side, warm and sticky, from the now open wound. Thankfully, the crossbow had stayed slung around him throughout the entire ordeal, and he was able to pull the string back, place the arrow in and shoot the walker right in between the eyes. The walker, who appeared to once have been a bald, chubby business man, dropped to the ground in a loud thud. Daryl wobbled on his feet, trying to come to grips with the pain that wracked him from head to toe before taking a step towards the corpse to retrieve his bolt. He was walking though, and that he was thankful for. Besides being sore beyond anything he'd ever felt and the wound in his side, he figured he was mostly alright. Nothing seemed to be broken, anyway. Daryl had had sprains before, and he figured his left ankle might be sprained, and he probably had a few pulled muscles here and there, but he was in one piece and able to move.
Daryl's black work boot sunk into the mud, making a sloppy squishing sound as he knelt down beside the walker. He tried not to look at it, the thing who's toxic green eyes were staring up blankly at the blue sky overhead. He got his arrow back and turned around to look towards the steep hill, almost cliff, he had fallen from. It was nearly vertical, with rocks and twigs sticking out here and there. He could see the bright yellow and red from some of the feathers of his arrows scattered about like eggs on Easter. Daryl took a deep breath before limping towards it, what he saw as the challenge that would either make or break him.
It's sink 'r swim now, boy, Merle said in a cold laugh. Daryl tried to ignore the echoing call of his brother as he placed a hand on one of the rocks and hoisted himself up. He almost fell backwards; the movement had been so fast it had made his head start to spin. He held onto the rock tightly, making his knuckled turn white and waited until the dizziness had passed and grabbed the next rock he could reach, this time picking up one of his rogue arrows. Daryl kept going; each time he moved, he'd have to take a rest of about a minute in order to make the world stop spinning so damn fast, pick up an arrow, repeat. After awhile Daryl dared a look over his shoulder, back down to the ravine below. Another walker had picked up Daryl's scent and was standing right below him, watching him hungrily. Daryl gulped. No room for error now, if there had been any before.
Dinner had passed, and though everyone's plates were empty, everyone still sat at the table rigidly. The sky was starting to darken, the more the bright blue of day faded the tenser everyone got. Carol, the kids and newcomers were all talking at the corner of the table in the lounge. Everyone else was sitting on the other end in silence. Everyone had noticed Daryl's absence, it was impossible not to notice a lack of Dixon. He had said he'd be back in a couple hours. A couple hours was now nearing on six and on top of it, the sun would go down soon. Harley sat beside Lori, chewing her thumbnail thoughtfully, trying desperately to think of reasons not to worry and coming up short.
"We gotta do something," Rick said finally. Everyone else at his end of the table nearly jumped as they were brought back to reality and snapped from their thoughts.
"It's gonna be dark soon, we can't risk it," Shane replied sternly as he rested his hands on the table.
"Yeah, I get it. Night time is more dangerous. But we've all done things a hell of a lot more risky, sometimes stupid, than go look for someone, who we actually have a good idea of where they are," Harley said. Shane narrowed his eyes at her, which she saw. Harley didn't care though, she let it roll off her back. Harley didn't hate Shane, he'd always been pleasant to her, but she definitely didn't care what he thought of her or her opinions. Especially when it came to Daryl.
Shane would be the death of them all, she was certain sometimes. Shane was eager to go with the safest bet to save his own skin, even if it meant losing some of his colleagues, which in the long run, meant less muscle, less brain, less power.
"We can't leave Daryl out there," Glenn piped up. "Can't say I love him, but…He's helped out a lot, you know?"
"Losing Daryl would definitely be losing one big resource, that's for sure," Dale said solemnly as he looked down at the floor. As much as he hated to admit it, the idea of losing Daryl was a bit sentimental to him, at this point. Like everyone, he had hated the Dixon brothers. The two had been mean, ignorant, and useless, that was all those two amounted to in the camp. They had started fights with nearly every person there. Then Merle was pulled out of the equation. At first, that had made Daryl worse. A lot of his outbursts had turned violent, rather than just words spewed from an ignorant hick. However, as more time went by without Merle, Daryl became tolerable. Then, he caved and actually started talking to everyone in the group, maybe not becoming friends, but at least being civil and sociable with the group. Daryl had been the one to look for Sophia the most and hardest, quietly earning respect from everyone. No, Dale couldn't say Daryl Dixon was his friend, but he had grown rather fond of him over the past few weeks and the idea of something bad happening to him broke Dale's, as well as everyone else's, heart.
"You hit the nail on the head. We gotta go look for him," Rick said and got his feet, along with everyone else who had been sitting at that end of the table.
"I ain't going. Walking in the woods tonight is a death trap," Shane spat, and crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to get up from his seat on a blue couch.
"No one asked you anyway," Glenn said matter-of-factly, a way that made Shane's blood boil though he didn't say or do anything to act on it.
"Alright Shane, if you want to stay here and hold down fort with the women and kids, that's fine," Rick said in a shrug as he, Glenn and T-Dog headed for the door. Lori stopped Rick and gave him a quick peck on the lips and asked him to be careful. Very careful.
"Wait, I'm coming too," Harley said as she walked over towards the three, who looked at her incredulously.
"Harley, I know you're worried, but you should stay here," Rick said. Harley raised a brow.
"I know you don't know from experience, since all I've done since we were at the camp, the cabin or here was cook, clean or menial stuff like that. But, Officer, I can take care of myself. How else do you think I got myself and Riley all the way across Atlanta and found the you all? Plus, I'm one hell of a shot. My Dad used to take me to the shooting range a lot when I was growing up, and I can't say I'm a dead eye, or anything like that, but I'm good," Harley said with her hands on her hips, her tone steady and confident. "Better than Glenn," She added jokingly when she realized how intensely she came off, and didn't want the mood to seem intimidating or that she was trying too hard. She really wanted to go out, be outside, leave the walls of the dorm for a bit. And, first and for most, find Daryl. Harley was a hands on type of girl, and she just the idea of sitting around waiting for the men to get back with Daryl while she twiddled her thumbs made her sick.
"Hey!" Glenn exclaimed, and playfully punched Harley's shoulder.
"You know what? What could an extra pair of eyes and hands hurt. I'll give you the pistol. You gotta listen, and don't shoot unless absolutely necessary or I say so. Got it?" Rick asked as the group, who had been joined by Lucien, walked out of the lounge and into the lobby, where Rick had stored some of the weapons behind the front desk.
"Got it," Harley confirmed as Rick placed the silver pistol in her hands.
Daryl finally got to the top of the hill about forty five minutes later. He was drenched with sweat, and he flopped down on the ground to collect himself once more. He took a few deep inhales of the chillier evening air. A breeze whistled through the trees and cooled the sweat that still shone on his skin. As if the wind had been the voice of God, Daryl got to his feet once more. Slowly, a bit shakily, but he did manage to get back up. His motorcycle wasn't too far away from the path, and once he got to that and got back to the dorm everything would be fine. Harley would be there to get him some dinner, maybe have a drink with him and then, God willing, tend his wounds. What would be the odds some college chick would have a nurse costume for Halloween lying around? Daryl wondered to himself in a smirk as he trudged down the dirt path, being careful not to step on any twigs that would create a snapping noise and bring the attention to any walkers that could be lurking near by.
He still felt like an eighteen wheeler had run him over, and maybe backed over him. But, he was out of that cove. He had managed to climb up over that near impossible, joke of a drop, and would soon be back to the campus. Food. Booze. Sleep. Those three ideas were all just too much to handle, in the best way.
They're all gonna be might fuckin' sad when you walk back through those doors, boy. Merle seethed in his head. When the sun started to set and you wasn't there, they were laughin'. You know what they was sayin', baby brotha? They was saying 'thank god the hillbilly done gone, one less mouth to feed'.
Daryl tried to block it out. He limped on, his left leg dragging a bit. He walked on the path for nearly five minutes, only saw one walker which he easily took out with his cross bow and saw Merle's motorcycle parked right where he left it. Like some kind of beacon, it sparkled in the last few rays of daylight.
Riley sat next to Miguel at the lounge table. The two of them, along with Carol, Carl and Rosa were playing Go fish or something. From the corner of her eye, Riley had seen Miguel eyeing her up and down and the way he did made her feel nervous. Though, much to her own surprise it wasn't the bad kind of nervous. She actually felt like she enjoyed the butterflies his big brown eyes seemed to give her. Every now and again she would look up into his bulge-y eyes, meet them and then coyly look away throughout the night, some unspoken way of flirting.
"Did you call the boss yet?" Rosa whispered in Miguel's ear, when Carol was talking to Riley. Rosa was a smart woman, and she had known to wait until the perfect moment to speak with Miguel so that no suspicion would arrive.
"Yeah," Miguel nodded. "He said he'll be here in two, maybe three nights. He has to get some things together at the cabin. He said to make sure the redneck and the dark haired girl are here when he gets here. He said until then we can do whatever we want. You know the drill," Miguel whispered back before he pulled away and gave Rosa a wink.
"Well, I think we're going to call it a night," Carol said as she, Carl and Riley all got up.
"It's not even eight yet," Riley said in a pout as she tugged at her brown sweatshirt, specifically tugging on some of the stray strings on the end.
"We have no clocks, so there's no way of knowing that," Carol replied as she placed a hand on Carl's back and directed him in front of her towards the door. "If you're still up when your sister and everyone gets back, I'm sure she wouldn't mind you coming down to spend time with everyone,"
"Goodnight, bella," Miguel said in a low tone that Carol didn't catch to Riley.
"G-goodnight," Riley stammered as she followed behind Carol and Carl.
"We've looked everywhere in this woods," Glenn groaned as he kicked a pile of dead leaves to illustrate his frustration. It was pitch black now, and everyone was uncomfortable being in the woods now. Rick was mentally sighing in relief that he had taken construction paper from the lobby of the dorm and stuck the paper on branches along the way, because he knew if he hadn't the four of them would definitely be lost.
"Harley, we've been out here for almost a whole hour. We have to go. There's no sign of him, I'm sorry," Rick said, truly being sympathetic. Harley looked over her shoulder, as if Daryl would be right there, coming out from behind a tree now that they were ready to give up.
"Yeah, it's okay," Harley said in a nod, though Rick knew better. "Can we come back tomorrow and look for him?"
"Of course," Rick said as the four of them all started to walk down the dark path. Then, there was a low moan. And another.
"Glenn, that joke isn't funny," Harley whispered as she took an extra long stride forward, to avoid stepping on a fallen tree branch that was covered in bright green moss.
"That… Wasn't me," Glenn said slowly, fearfully. All four of them spun around on their heels and a group of about ten walkers were heading towards them.
"Oh, shit!" T-dog whined as he lifted his rifle up and aimed at one, and pulled the trigger.
"Damn it T," Rick hissed. "You'd bet hope there aren't more lurking around here,"
"I think those few over there worry me more right now," T-dog snapped back.