Chapter 26: Daryl

Daryl's eyes snapped open. It took him a second to realize where he was. His mouth was dry as he swallowed, looking at Hannah still passed out next to him. His insides squirmed at what he'd said last night. He didn't regret it, but they'd both been pretty drunk and he wasn't sure what it would be like now. He untangled himself from her and stepped outside. Merle was working on his bike again, probably tweaking from all the coke he'd been doing lately. Daryl stretched, feeling his back crack with a pop. He ambled into camp, sitting on a log by the fire pit as he started whittling more arrows, knowing he'd need them sooner or later. He wasn't in the mood to be around these people today.

"They don't give a flying fuck what happens to us. We're no more than junkyard dogs ta them, here to watch their asses so they can sleep better at night. An' when they're done with us, they're gonna throw us away like we was rottin' food." Merle had been right, these people didn't give a fuck about them. He wondered what they would have done if he hadn't been there yesterday when Hannah was taken hostage. They probably would have just left her. Any one of them coulda gotten bit when Ed turned, and Daryl knew that Rick had probably thought about that, but none of these people had the balls to do what Hannah had tried. The entire time Daryl and Merle had been with them, none of them showed one damn ounce of appreciation for keepin' their asses safe. Buncha selfish assholes. He shook his head, turning the soon to be arrow with every stroke of his knife. The days were starting to get warmer now as spring slipped to summer. If he counted right, it'd been 78 days since the outbreak had started, and if he counted right, that meant his birthday was in exactly a month. He didn't imagine himself being in the midst of a zombie apocalypse at 30. He wasn't sure where he pictured himself being at 30, honestly. Here was a good a place as any, he guessed. Birthdays had come and gone almost unnoticed in the Dixon household. Usually they passed by unspoken though, some years, Merle would come in and wordlessly throw something at him before grabbing a beer out of the fridge and ducking upstairs. Hell, that's how he'd gotten the knife he was holding, Merle had given it to him for his 12th birthday. He stole a glance at his brother, and he couldn't tell if Merle was singing to himself, or talking to himself, but it didn't matter either way. This year, his present to himself would be the gift of still being alive. Daryl didn't even notice Hannah slip into camp at first, his mind was too busy wandering. It was when he heard her voice that he looked up from his makeshift arrow.

"There a map around here somewhere?" She asked as Dale retrieved the map Daryl knew he kept in one of the drawers in the RV. He watched as Dale said something and she put a hand to her eye. Dale leaned in closer, whispering something before giving her a wink and walking away. He watched her smile slightly, unfolding the map and spreading it out. Her fingers trailed the map with ease as she mumbled to herself. Daryl stood, tucking his knife into it's sheath, walking up next to her. She looked pale and sick from too much drinking the night before.

"You look like you got hit by a bus!" He said, trying not to laugh.

"Ugh. I feel like I got hit by a bus and then it reversed over top of me." She groaned slightly as her stomach gurgled loudly.

"You thinkin' about goin' huntin?" He asked hopefully. He needed to escape this camp for a little bit, he was going to go insane if he didn't.

"Yeah, I was thinking about followin the creek south a few miles, see if I can't catch somethin along it." She said, marking her intended trail with the tip of her finger.

"When are we leavin?" He didn't bother to wait for an invite. He was going whether she liked it or not. She didn't seem to mind much though.

"Dunno jus yet." He watched her grimace as her stomach gurgled again and she looked like she was gonna be sick.

"Y'alright?" He asked. She nodded and went to the box of food, rifling around in it until she produced a can of beans. He observed her opening the can with the tip of her machete and nestle it on the edge of the fire. Rick took a seat next to her and Daryl busied himself looking at the map, his eyes following the creek. He still didn't like the fact that they were still so close to the city. If it were up to him, they'd be in the country lands somewhere. Less people, less walkers. Hannah moved toward the tent and he made sure he had enough arrows, for whatever they'd come across. She emerged and they quietly set off into the woods. They made it to the creek bed and Hannah pulled out the map, checking the sun for their direction.

"'S the only creek for at least 10 miles, so I figure there'll be deer round here. Specially if the walkers have been keeping away." She said as the traced the creek with her fingertip. They walked along and Daryl could tell that Hannah was in her natural element. Her eyes slipped effortlessly over the ground as they went, her feet were light and almost soundless.

"So your dad taught you how to hunt?" He asked her after a while.

"Sort of, he taught me the basics, but after my mom left, he just started working at the shop later and later an I saw him less an' less. Zack basically taught me everything I know." She explained with a haunting smile on her lips.

"Ya miss her? Yer mom I mean." He asked. She snorted.

"Naw. I was happy the bitch left. She wasn't gettin' any mother of the year awards." She spat resentfully. Daryl looked at her, waiting for her to elaborate. He felt like there was more to her then she let on. "Sarah…my mom…she didn't include getting knocked up into her glamorous life plans. Especially getting knocked up twice in 3 years. I wasn't exactly playin' dress up neither and she, well, she tried to beat the lady into me, lotta good that did her." She said sarcastically but Daryl heard the seething anger in those words. Shit, he could relate. Paw had almost killed him a few times when it got real bad. When Daryl was 12 he walked around with 2 broken ribs for weeks until Merle came home on leave from the Army and took him to the hospital. They looked at each other and Daryl looked away shyly.

"I know the feelin', Paw could get pretty bad when he was drunk." He mumbled. The moans reached their ears at the same time and they spun around. Two walkers were 20 feet away, luckily they hadn't spotted them yet. They darted into the bushes and Daryl signaled they would each take one down. Hannah was calm and he could have sworn she had to keep from smiling. They emerged, rushing at them. Daryl took aim, releasing his arrow into the skull of the walker and it dropped like a bag of bricks. He watched as Hannah fearlessly ran at the walker, shoving her machete into it's head, twisting. He unstuck his arrow and they kept going.

"Saw tracks up ahead, but we need to keep our eyes open. Heard that the walkers are startin' to wander away from the city to find food." She said and he wondered where she'd heard it from. Made sense though, with only a few people stranded in the city still, they'd be starving. Daryl was surprised when they stumbled on the tracks about 15 feet down the trail. Daryl was impressed with her skills, he hadn't honestly doubted her, but it was impressive nonetheless.

"Fresh too, he was probably here about 10 minutes ago." He said, putting a hand to the newly laid tracks. They were hushed as they continued on, hoping that they could catch up without spooking the buck. They'd walked a for about 5 minutes, and there it was. The buck was beautiful and Daryl figured it'd last them a few days. It was grazing on a hill and Daryl noticed it's rack was huge. He readied a bow and took aim. He inhaled like his Paw had taught him and released the trigger on his exhale. The aim was spot on and the buck dropped with a resounding thud.

"Hot damn, we're good!" She grinned excitedly. Daryl noticed that her eyes were alive now with a hum of happiness. He couldn't see a single trace of anger or sadness in them and this is how he wanted her to stay forever.

"Well, let's get this fucker back to camp so Merle can gut it." Daryl said, proudly admiring the size of his kill. They grabbed the antlers and started to lug it back to camp. Daryl wanted to make sure that Hannah knew those words he'd told her weren't just the booze talking. He needed her to know how he felt. He worked up the courage to spit the words out.

"I meant what I said last night." He saw her look away, blushing at his statement.

"I know, figured it was yer brother that used that line just to get laid." She kidded nervously, but then her face was serious. "But I meant it too." Daryl did his best not to smile in relief. They took a break a few minutes later to drink thirstily from the water Hannah had brought. He watched her for a minute as she checked the sun, his hunger for her was insatiable. He needed to taste her, to feel her skin on his. The fire in his belly was exploding. He crashed his lips onto hers as his passion took over. It was magic. Daryl had never given so much of himself to a woman in his life. It was intense and they finished together in a wave of sweat and moans. They laid there breathless for a minute as the birds sang on. She kissed his neck tenderly. They fixed themselves and returned to camp, grinning at each other like teenagers. Maybe there was such a thing as soul mates after all. He thought to himself, genuinely happy with life for the first time in a while.