Day 239
I don't know how to help the group. I mean beside basic survival, of course, and doing whatever I can to protect them, but that's not what worries me. It's about how slowly they just shut down, we don't often talk, not anymore. Lori is ignored now by both her husband and her son. T-Dog doesn't joke anymore, Glenn and Maggie interact mainly with themselves.
We kept moving, not separating, never stayed in one place for longer than three days. As soon as Rick notices any recent traces of other people, we'd move out and drive for hours.
Rick was another worry for me; he kept mainly to himself. When he spoke, it was only to give orders, he didn't smile, and his expression was always grim. I noticed that he didn't sleep for longer than a few hours. Sleep deprivation could lead to severe consequences, something which I obviously casually told him. But I was being ignored. I mean, he still listened to me when we planned where to go next, what we need, but otherwise, I was ghosted, just like his wife. Or anyone else for that matter.
"Ya scaring all game." Daryl's gruff voice sounded from behind, making me stop and look around at him.
"I'm not, I wasn't loud," I replied. Ever since the ground wasn't frozen anymore, the hunter decided it was time to check the woods and see if we could catch any animals.
"With yur thinkin', woman."
I sighed at that and just started walking again. The bow in my hand was ready, but the fact was that there weren't any animals here, nor were yesterday or day before that. But I didn't comment on that, I knew that Daryl needed to get away from others even if just for a little bit. And woods always gave him a sense of freedom, where he felt most comfortable.
"What, no witty reply?" He asked me again, making me shake my head.
"I thought I'd give you a break, Big Boy."
I heard a familiar snap of his crossbow, and I spun around to see where he was aiming. On the forest's floor layed a small squirrel, how did I miss it I'll never know. I watched him walk towards the animal and remove his bolt, and tie up the critter to a string he always carried.
"No game, hm?" He looked at me with a smug face, making me chuckle a little.
"Lucky, that's it. It probably just pop out, to check if it's safe. Worst decision of its life."
"Nah, they always come out at that time. One more week, and birds will come back."
"OK, you're the hunter."
"What's on yur mind, El?" He asked me in a softer voice when we started moving again, circling back to start our journey back.
"Everybody's so quiet recently. They feel like there's no place for us." I told him, pushing past him when he indicated for me to lead the way.
"Can't blame them."
"I'm not. Just thinking what can be done about that. The worse we could do is to lose hope."
"Then what ya suggest?" That's actually something I was considering for a few days now, but I knew that Rick won't agree. He's adamant that there's a place, right around the corner, metaphorically speaking, waiting for us.
"Maybe we should expand. Collect as much gas as we can. Check the maps for possibly secured landmarks, not just in Georgia." I told him, furrowing my brow at that thought. It would have to be something with tall fences or walls. Someplace where we can defend ourselves, and see any incoming dangers.
"Hmm, I never left Georgia," Daryl replied in a strained voice. I knew it wasn't because of sentiment. He thought I didn't notice. But every time he asked me to lead the way, it wasn't just so he can watch my back. It was so he can look for signs of Merle without being spotted and without losing focus on the group's needs. I was his anchor, so he won't get lost in the woods, looking for his missing brother.
"It'd require lots of planning, and Rick won't agree. That's why I didn't say anything. But we have limited supplies. There's no point going further south."
"Why not?"
"Fort Benning. If it was in fact, overrun, there would be lots of walkers with heavy artillery and military outfits. Harder to kill."
Daryl grunted in reply, thinking over what I just said.
"What about the west? Towards Carolina's and sea?" The hunter's question made me stop in my tracks and turn around to him. He was deep in thought, biting on his bottom lip. I watched his eyes, they were darker than usual, meaning that he was slightly angry or agitated.
"Daryl. I know why you don't want to leave Georgia." I told him softly, coming closer, putting one hand on his shoulder. His eyes went down, staring into mine. "It's a good idea. But Rick is adamant that there's something for us here. And as long as we're here, you can search for Merle. I'd never take it away from you."
"Ya know?" His voice was huskier, the only indication of his emotions while his face stayed blank.
"Of course. You're my best friend. I know you." I smiled at him gently, and when it was evident, he has nothing else to say I started trekking through the forest again. Back to where our group was waiting.
Day 244
Did I mention before that we were chased by a herd of walkers? Yes, good. We kept moving south, not far. We were running low on gas, hell, we were low on anything. Just a few cans left in our cars, some old chips long past their due date, this same with protein bars. And one canister of fuel, to share between three cars and a bike.
Daryl gracefully volunteered himself and me, to go for a run. Usually, I'd jump first and wrap my arms around his waist as quickly as possible. But for the past two days, I felt like shit. I had a cold, or flu, fuck knows. But the last thing I wanted to do was go to get gas. The problem was that we didn't have a lot of medicine. We found some about a week ago, but I wasn't going to take it. In case someone would need it more, all I needed was some rest and sleep. Sweat out that shit out of my system. Of course, Dixon had other fucking plans.
So, now I was stuck at the back of his bike, my weapons weighing me down, for the first time in forever. The weather was improving, Daryl ditched his leather jacket, leaving only long-sleeved shirt and an angel vest. But I was still stubbornly wrapped in my cargo coat. When I walked like that towards the bike, zipped up all the way to my neck, with the clenched jaw to stop trembling, he looked at me like I'm crazy.
Group needs, group receives, that's what I swore to myself, back at the quarry, and I wasn't letting some stupid cold stop me from delivering.
Daryl stopped the bike in a parking lot of a small shop. I furrowed my brows, but get off it, stretching my joints. My muscles hurt, and my head was pounding like someone was drilling through my skull. My throat felt like sandpaper, and I had trouble swallowing. Sighing heavily, I readied my bow, grabbing the arrow from my back. While I was looking out for any trouble, Dixon took two containers and a hose, approaching one of the abandoned vehicles.
I had a bad feeling about this place. But I didn't know if it's because I felt like shit, or because something was genuinely wrong. All my instincts felt out of place.
Down the road, I noticed a movement, three walkers came out from around the corner. I shifted my stance and stretched the string. Gritting my teeth at the pain in my muscles, I took a few deep breaths, stabilizing my arms. I send the first arrow, hitting the chest of the closest walker.
"Fuck!" I mumbled under my breath, quickly notching another, and releasing, finally hitting my target. I repeated it until all three geeks were on the ground. I looked behind my shoulder, seeing that Daryl moved to another vehicle, sucking on a hose to make the gas flowing.
I jogged forward to collect the arrows, cringing at the sickening sound they made when I pulled them out of the walker's brains. I froze for a second when I looked up, dozens of geeks were slowly making their way towards me, the scent of decay filling my nostrils, making me gag. Their groans sounded in my ears. Fuck, I haven't seen anything like that since the highway, the day we lost Sophia.
I spun around and ran back to the hunter.
"Daryl!" I called out, he stood up and took in my running form. "We need to go!"
I saw him put a lid on the container and move quickly to his bike. I watched his eyes open widely when he looked at something above my shoulder. Yeah, I had a vague idea of how it fucking looked like.
I pushed my legs to work faster, coming to an abrupt stop next to the hunter. He sat down and passed me both containers.
"You shiting me."
"El!" His voice was urgent, making me growl. I climbed the bike and placed gas canisters between our bodies, one hand on top of them, the other holding onto Daryl. He turned the engine on, bike roaring into life, and he took off, nearly knocking me off balance.
"Watch it, for fuck sake!" I yelled at him, but he ignored me. Daryl unclipped the walkie-talkie from the front of the bike and pressed the button.
"Herd. We gonna drive 'em away!" We going fucking what?! I regretted getting up this morning with every passing second, more and more.
"Copy. Contact us when you're safe." Rick's voice sounded through the radio, making me groan internally. Dixon stopped, letting the herd catch up to us, before starting up again, when I patted his shoulder. He turned into the side road, the houses we passed were in horrible conditions. You'd never think how dirty and dusty buildings can become in eight months. Vines were climbing, covering the sides, windows busted. All that humanity worked so hard for generations, gone in just under a year.
"Fuck." I heard Daryl growl, the bike stopping urgently, making me fall forward and drop one of the canisters. It busted open, spilling gasoline all over the road. There were more walkers, right in front of us, trapping us between two herds.
"To the left, we can't lead them to the rest!" I told him. I reached into my holster, taking out my Glock. I trapped the remaining canister between my tights and wrapped my left arm tightly around Daryl's waist.
"What ya doin'?" He yelled over the engine, looking for a possible way out.
"Just go!" I shouted in his ear, finally making him spin the gear, turning the bike to the left. Blood in my veins was pumping faster, I twisted my body, right arm stretched behind me. Walkers followed us in tandem, but my eyes were focused on the ground, on tipped, red plastic bottle.
When we were away enough that I deemed it semi-safe, I wrapped my finger around the trigger.
"Floor it!" I shouted at Daryl, squeezing at the same time, firing two rounds.
The blast was lauder then I anticipated, the bike swerved harshly, making me grab onto the Dixon tighter. He was cursing under his breath, trying to regain control over the machine. Orange flames busted into the air, covering the walkers that were the closest to it. It spread from the canister through the puddle and splashes on the asphalt.
Daryl drove away from the fire, for a few miles, his body was tense under my arms. I guess he wasn't the happiest person on earth. When we came to a stop, away from the herd, he jumped off the bike. When I tried to follow him, he just rose his hand, stopping me. I held on to the gas canister, observing Dixon.
I scrunched my brows at his pacing. He was walking in circles, right next to me, his grip on a crossbow was so tight that his knuckles went white. He mumbled something, but I couldn't hear what. I never saw him like that, and I wasn't sure what to do to help him. I mean, we should just fucking be on our way, go around and back to Rick and rest of our people. I shifted uncomfortably on a bike.
I sneezed, hiding face in my elbow, clearing my throat. I just want to fucking lay down, but no, Daryl needs to be- I don't even know what.
"Daryl?" I spoke quietly, his head snapped in my direction when he heard me speak, there was something weird in his face. He strode over, and grabbed my shoulders, more harshly than I'd like. And normally I'd slap him or push him away, but his eyes stopped me. Those bright blue orbs stared directly into mine, he was angry and scared.
"What. Was. That?" He snarled at me, making me flinch a little bit.
"Um, your welcome."
"Don't." He shook his head, clenching his jaw, not moving his eyes.
"Dixon, what the fuck. We were far away from the group." I hissed at him in reply, my own anger pushing forward.
"Ya could kill us."
"I made sure we're far enough, you dipshit. I gave them something to be interested in for a while until we can go away!"
"Ya fucking crazy." He exclaimed, straightening up and throwing his arms in the air in frustration.
"We lost gas, I knew what I was doing. I calculated every move. I gave us a chance!"
"Ya risked yur fucking life!" He shouted in my face, his thin lips pressed into a line. "What if ya were wrong? Ya'd be first to burn."
What? Was that all about me getting hurt? Slowly I placed the canister on the ground and swang my leg over the bike, standing up. He looked like a wild animal, and that's how I approached him. Slowly, my hand gently reached his broad chest. Daryl's body went stiff, and his eyes darted to mine.
"Daryl, I'm fine. We're fine." I moved closer, tilting my head up, to keep our eyes connected. "Walkers are crispy, and slowed down, hopefully, distracted for long enough to get us back."
He shook the head, his nostrils flared. "How can ya joke now?"
"Look, I know that sometimes you question my choices." I started, hoping to calm him down enough so we can get the fuck out of here. He snorted, closing his eyes for a moment.
"Boar, vatos, Randall's group, yur crazy neighbor." He started counting, hesitantly wrapping his arm around me, pulling me to him. He pressed his forehead to mine, eyes still closed.
"That's just a few times ya nearly fuckin' died, El."
"Daryl." I breathed out his name, merely a whisper. My chest ached a little, and something twisted, deep in my belly. "And how many times was I actually hurt?"
"Three."
"I know it seems like I'm crazy. But trust me, I am opposite of impulsive. I always think about the risks, and always chose the best one. Not for me, but for the group."
"That's what worries me, woman." His voice was softer, resigned. We were so close now, my heart beating so fast that I was afraid it would burst. I had my hand on his chest, and I could feel that his heart was doing precisely this same. I moved my other hand and placed it carefully on his cheek, his scruffy beard tickling my palm and fingers.
"I'm careful, always. You have to trust me. You are my partner, on a hunt, on the run. I need to know that you trust my judgment. I have no wish to die, and I'll always do everything to survive."
He pried his eyes open and tensed again when he noticed how close we were. I smiled at him gently, brushing my thumb over his cheekbone.
"You have to got faith in me, Dixon."
"I do." I sighed in relief at that, his breath gently brushing over my face. Now that he calmed down, relaxed, I could enjoy his closeness. I wished though that my nose wasn't blocked so I could appreciate his musky scent.
"Daryl, do you copy?" Rick's voice broke the spell before I could do anything stupid. Like, kiss him. I cleared my throat and scrunched my brows, slowly pulling away from the hunter's embrace.
"Yeah, we're here." Daryl's voice was hoarse, and he kept glancing at me.
"Where are you?"
"We're comin' back now. Twenty minutes." Daryl spoke to the radio, mounting his bike, motioning for me to climb back in.
When we got back to the small house we holed up in, I went straight to Hershel. Today completely wore me out, even though we couldn't be gone longer than three hours. But I felt like shit, more than I did when I woke up this morning, and I decided it was time to stop being a proud cow and ask for help.
"Hershel." I croaked at him, dropping my bow and quiver into the corner I was sleeping in. "How much aspirin we got left?"
"Half a bottle? Why? What's wrong?" My only answer was another sneeze, and he looked me over. "Why you didn't say anything before?"
I didn't have a valid answer, except that it didn't feel important, so I stayed quiet while he pushed me to one of the couches.
"You look like crap," Carol commented, sitting next to me, placing her hand on my forehead.
"Well, fuck off."
"She got fever," The woman announced to Hershel when he came back with his stethoscope and meds.
"No shit, Sherlock." I coughed into my hand, and the old man asked me to take off my jacket. I didn't protest when Carol helped me out of it, leaving me in a long-sleeved shirt. I could feel it clinging to my body.
"Beth, could you pass me a fresh shirt, from Elena's bag?" Bless you, Peltier, now that I sat down, there was no way I could move.
"Can we have some privacy?" Hershel asked, over his shoulder, where our group stood, watching me with worried faces. I caught Daryl's eyes, sending him a tired smile before he moved to the kitchen, others following behind him.
"Should I ask why you smell like gasoline and fire?" Carol asked me while I took off my shirt. I didn't care about my scars anymore, Doc had already seen them, and I knew she wouldn't comment on it.
"Hmm. I maybe, potentially, blew up some walkers." I stuttered, not looking anywhere near her.
"Right. I bet Daryl was happy."
"Yeah. Buzzing," I snorted, making her and Hershel chuckle.
"You're not dying if you're joking."
"Is that your professional opinion, Doc?"
Hershel pressed the cold metal to my chest, moving my locket gently out of the way, and then to my back.
"That's new," Carol said softly, looking at my chest.
"No, I had those for about twenty years." I deadpanned, knowing that it's not what she meant.
"Not your boobs." She scoffed, pointing at the neckless. I touched it with my fingertips, running over small gems.
"A. Um, it's not. I had it for a few months." I avoided her eyes, putting a clean shirt when Hershel finished his examination.
"I see. You found it on the run?" She was smiling smugly, knowing exactly where it came from.
"Birthday present. From Dixon. If you're going to give him shit about it, I'll kick your ass." I pointed a finger at her, but she just laughed.
"Fine with me. I can bug you about it."
I groaned, desperate for this conversation to be over.
"Your lungs seem to be clear. So it's just a nasty cold." Hershel announced and pressed pills and water bottle into my hand. "Take those. You should be fine in a few days, but if your fever doesn't go down, we'll have to find you some antibiotics."
"Yay." Can you feel the sarcasm? I swallowed the meds, drinking greedily.
"OK, and now you gonna lay down and try to sleep."
"Alrighty." I stood up and moved towards my corner, but Carol blocked my path, raising her eyebrow.
"Where are you going?" I waived in the general direction of my sleeping area, but she shook her head.
"You're ill. You stay on the couch." There were two, one occupied by Lori, the other by Carol herself. The big armchair was Hershel's spot.
"I can't take your spot," I told her, crossing my arms. And she sent me a wide smile.
"You can, and you'll. I'll take your corner." There was a mischievous flicker in her eyes before she continued. "Maybe Daryl will keep me warm tonight?"
I kept my face blank, but everything inside me was screaming at her. She had to be joking, right? Just trying to get a reaction out of me. Yes, that must be it. So I shrugged, and plunged myself on a sofa, wrapping my body in a blanket.
"Sure, good luck," I replied, shifting into a more comfortable position. Carol busted in laughter, trying to cover it with a cough.
"Your face, priceless." She said, and bend down, pulling covers all the way to my neck. "I told you before. I don't like him like that. You have nothing to worry about." She whispered gently in my ear, kissing me on the forehead.
"Whatever," I told her grumpily, closing my eyes.
Oh, that was nice. I was warm and surrounded by my family. I knew I was safe with them, they would take care of me. My mind started to drift off, and soon I submitted to the darkness.