Chapter 37

"Ya think it'll be enough to get us through the winter?" Daryl asked Rick as he carefully piled a case of dry noodles into the back of the truck with the other food supplies they had managed to scavenge.

Rick shrugged, "It'll have to be. This is the closest town to the camp; going any further would be too dangerous and a waste of fuel."

He looked up as Melissa approached carrying a large box of what looked like gauze and medical tape. "Do you have more stuff Melissa?"

She nodded. "Just a few more boxes."

"Daryl, I'll help Melissa; you keep watch." Rick said.

Before Rick and Melissa could leave, Glen popped his head around the front of the truck; he was carrying a large garbage bag stuffed full of what Daryl assumed was clothes. He was alone and Daryl scowled at the young man, "Where's Amelia?"

Glen tipped his head towards the right, "She's still gathering clothes."

"Dammit Glen! I told ya to stay with her." Daryl picked up his crossbow and started in the direction Glen had indicated.

"It's fine; I'm right here." Amelia called softly.

Daryl sighed with relief as Amelia walked out of the store across the street, dragging her own garbage bag behind her.

"I found you a sweater; it'll keep you warm for when you're hunting." She smiled at him as he started towards her.

She walked in front of a large courier truck, "Of course, it's bright pink but I'm sure you'll look dashing in it and –"

Daryl watched in horror as a Walker stumbled out from behind the truck and grabbed Amelia by her long braid. It yanked her into its arms and battened onto her neck like a vampire. Amelia screamed as the Walker tore through the delicate skin of her throat and her jugular burst, bathing her in blood. The blood sprayed from her like a fountain, raining droplets of bright red liquid onto her face and the Walker's as it chewed hungrily at her throat. She clawed weakly with one hand at the Walker's shirt before rolling her eyes towards Daryl.

Vaguely, he was aware of Melissa screaming and Rick rushing past him but he could only stand frozen, staring into her hellishly aware eyes as her life drained out of her.

She reached towards him; he could see her lips mouthing his name and he dropped to his knees, a low moan starting in his chest. He drew a deep, hitching breath and then screamed - a wounded sound of desperation and grief. He could feel a buzzing, feverish madness starting in his brain as Amelia collapsed to the ground pulling the Walker with her and he screamed hoarsely again, the sound echoing in the stillness. Although some dim part of him knew he would draw more Walkers towards them with the noise, he didn't care. As Amelia died in front of him, he screamed and screamed and –

Daryl woke with a start, afraid for one horrifying moment that he had been screaming in his sleep. Amelia slept on beside him and although he could feel her warm body against his in the bed, he could barely convince himself that this was reality and her death was the nightmare. He was panting and sweating but he felt chilled to the bone and with a long, shuddering sigh he buried his face into the back of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent. She muttered something unintelligible in her sleep before sighing and curling up even tighter into herself.

He molded himself to her body, stroking her side, her arm, any part of her that he could reach, while he shivered and tried to calm himself down. Still mostly asleep, Amelia rolled over to face him. She must have sensed something was wrong because although she tended to move away in her sleep and became restless if he slept too closely, this time she didn't pull away. She threw one lean, pale thigh over his waist and shifted until her entire body was pressed up against his. She stroked his back with her warm hand as she pushed her face into his chest.

"Okay baby?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Yeah." He rasped out.

"Good." She muttered something else that he couldn't understand before slipping deeper into sleep again. Daryl rested his face against the top of her head, feeling the silky strands of her hair against his cheek. It was still dark, he figured there was another couple of hours until dawn, but he was wide awake and there wasn't a chance in hell he would fall asleep again.

He tried to relax by concentrating on his breathing, purposely making it slow and deep, but it took nearly half an hour before the rapid beating of his heart slowed and he felt like himself again. The nightmare had been bad, even more terrible than the ones he'd had as a child about his old man, but what was worse was his reaction upon waking. He was afraid. Afraid for Amelia and afraid for himself – that he might lose her. If she died, he would go mad. The truth of that, the knowledge that if she died he would be lost without her, weighed heavily on him. He shivered again. He had always preferred the darkness to the light but now, lying in the bed feeling alone and afraid, he clung to Amelia like she was a talisman against the darkness and waited for the light.