Sammy felt like she was floating. There was a ringing in her ears that canceled any other noise. It started on its own, small, and odd at first, then growing louder until she could hear nothing else. She felt her knees wobbling as she struggled to stand, giving out under a minute, and making her sink to the kitchen floor.
All she could do was stare. Stare at her grandma laying on the floor, unmoving. Stare at her grandpa who decided she would be his next meal. Stare at her hands that felt heavy as they shakily held up a medium sized knife. She recognized it as one of the ones Earl gave her to strap on herself. Though, she didn't remember pulling it free from its sheath.
Don't make me do this, don't make me, please don't make me. Sounded like a mantra in her head as Clive's eyes, dead and full of hunger, met hers. She felt as dead as he was. Hollow, empty, and wishing this never happened to them. She couldn't get herself to stop shaking, or make her heart slow down, or keep herself from crying.
Clive's hands found purchase on her arms as he tried to lazily slap the knife from her hands. She let him hold her, feeling for just a moment that he was himself again. Imagining he was trying to pull her in for a hug like he used to when she was a child. The ugly growl that left his throat snapped her out of it. His teeth were almost grazing her skin before she shoved him back, "Stop! Go back! Please go back to being you!" She felt foolish for trying to convince him to come back himself. Unless the CDC or some lab could come out with the cure, she was going to have to do something about Clive now.
Her command went unheard as he came forward again, trying to pull her closer by tightening his grip on her arm. Sammy cried out in anguish, apologizing over and over as she drove the knife in her hands through his ear with as much force as she could. "I-I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" His body crumbled in her arms, the grip he had on her was gone as his arms fell with his body to the floor.
Sammy fell with Clive, gripping his shirt in her hands and openly wailing as she really took in what she just did. Her grandpa was gone. Gone for good. She kept saying how sorry she was as she laid herself upon him, resting her head on his chest, trying to imagine a heartbeat.
Angling her head slightly, Sammy recognized the house slippers her grandma wore, and they were right in front of her. Looking up, Sammy met the milky eyes of Marge and barely got a scream out as the front door slammed open. The flying sound of an arrow being released from its hold was heard before Marge suddenly dropped to the floor next to Sammy and Clive. Sammy's screams had turned into a choking noise as her tears continued to flow while gasping for breath.
A hand smacked against her back with two hard pats before her right arm was pulled and she was forced to stand up. Daryl's blue eyes were roaming her body, looking for bites or scratches. She let him as she stared at her grandparents' bodies. They were just fine two days ago. Sammy struggled to understand how quickly things were changing around her. How did other families make it out whole and safe when hers were the ones prepared?
"Sam." Daryl tried to shake her arm and get her attention, but she was still staring at her deceased family. "Sam, look at me!" He stepped in front of her, blocking her sight and forcing her to look at him. "We have to go, Sam. Go get some things from your room."
She didn't know if she could. Her body felt sluggish and hollow, as if her soul left her. All she wanted to do was curl up by her grandparents and hold on to them one more time, pretending everything was fine. She wanted that so bad.
Daryl's hands pushed her to the side, around her grandparents and towards the hallway to her room. Her legs carried her the rest of the way, leading her to her door. Sammy tried to ground herself so she could do what Daryl asked her to, but her eyes fell on a photo of her grandparents lazily dancing in the living room. Sammy had snapped the photo when she was nine.
Ripping the photo from the bulky frame it was in, Sammy sat heavily on her bed and held the photo to her chest. She didn't know how long she was there, sitting on her bed, but Daryl came into her room a while later. She guessed he was checking on her. When seeing she had nothing done, he silently moved around her room, collecting things she might need or was ridiculously attached to. He left her a moment later, arms full of her crap, before returning to her side. "Get up." His tone was harsh and demanding.
"I can't." What was the point anymore? Her family was gone.
"Get yer stubborn ass up, Samantha. This town has gone to shit. Yer grandparents are gone, now let's go." He moved to grab her, but she slapped his hands away, glaring up at him.
"I just lost my grandparents and that's all you have to say to me? What about them? I can't just leave them like that. Like buzzard food." Sammy reached out and smacked Daryl against his chest, continuing for a minute before Daryl roughly grabbed her wrists.
"Look around ya, Sam, no one is being buried! The dead are walking and unless ya want to be among them, I suggest looking around for anything I might have missed and were leavin'." He threw her arms back to her sides. "I'll leave yer ass behind if I gotta."
Even though she knew it was an empty threat, the thought of being completely alone in a dead town was enough to make her get up and move. She swept through her drawers, grabbing a large duffle bag from under her bed, and filled it with her clothes. "Everything on the couch needs to go, along with the things from the basement. I think grams," Sammy winced as her voice broke trying to say her name, "was moving things into containers down there."
"I got them. Just waitin' on you." Daryl was a little softer now, having been successful at snapping her back for the moment.
Daryl took the strap of the bag from her, throwing it over his shoulder before shuffling her out of her room. She knew he would have made her go out the window if it was closer to her truck, but the big thing was parked by the back door of the house. He blocked her view from the kitchen as they hurried through the house and out the back door. She took a minute to lock the back door, marking the place as a grave for her grandparents and hoped no one would try to get in if they saw it was locked.
Sammy let Daryl drive her truck, hopping in the passenger side of the large vehicle. As Daryl started the truck and pulled out onto the street, Sammy watched as the house got smaller as they went, saying her goodbyes in her head. She faced forward once he turned from her street. She curled up in her seat as Daryl drove, gaining speed as the Eaters in the streets shuffled toward the truck, their arms raised in an effort to stop the vehicle.
She wasn't curious in the least where they were going, but Daryl decided to tell her anyway. "Goin' to Atlanta. Gunna take side streets as much as we can. Highways might be clogged going into the city." He turned his head to look at her a few times as he had to keep an eye on the road.
"Sure, sure." She told him, reaching forward, and turned on the radio, searching for a channel. All they heard was static until she got lucky and found the emergency broadcasting channel.
"…Survivors from rural regions to come to large cities. Safe zones have been set up with food, water, and shelter. Message will be repeated. Standby. Emergency broadcast system: Orders from the president are as follows: All Survivors from rural regions to come to large cities. Safe Zones have been set up with food, water, and shelter. Message will be repeated." Sammy flipped off the radio, settling in for silence.
They drove through another side town that was only two blocks with a gas station, a cheap motel, a handful of stores, and a few farmhouses. Daryl pointed at a bus that was abandoned near the gas station. "See that?" Sammy leaned forward, staring out the windshield. A few Walkers were crowded around the front, reaching their hands up toward the woman perched on the hood of the vehicle.
Daryl put the truck in park, keeping it running just in case Sammy needed to drive, and jumped out. "Daryl, wait!" She tried to reach for him, but the door slammed shut as he bolted off. Sammy watched as he made quick work of the undead, recognizing the knife he used against them as the one she used on her grandpa.
In the next moment, Daryl and the mystery woman seemed to be having a conversation before he led her to the truck. Sammy was forced to sit in the middle as Daryl got in behind the wheel and the woman sat to her right. She was a pretty girl with red hair pulled in a ponytail, a nice face, and bright blue eyes. "I met her at a diner before tracking Merle to the bar." Daryl explained.
Sammy gave her a grimace, an attempt at a smile that failed as she politely offered her a hand. "Sammy."
"Anna Turner," the redhead shook her hand firmly, "But all my friends call me Scout." She looked at Daryl over Sammy's head. "Look about leaving the diner, I needed to get my friend to a hospital. You got people depending on you, you need to push on. My dad's a sheriff so I was helping with what I could. Searching for supplies, helping people."
Daryl nodded, believing her. "So, what happened?"
"He made me promise to get to the evacuation at Palmetto Estates. Said he was pulling his deputies and meet me there."
Sammy looked at Daryl and found him already looking at her. She gave him a nod, telling him she would go if he did. "That's the best plan I heard all week."
The truck rattled on until they got to their desired location, Palmetto Estates. It wasn't a great distance from their own town or from Atlanta, but somewhere in the middle. Daryl stopped the truck and put it in park next to a small outlet mall. The truck was hidden behind a large school bus and another large pickup truck. Scout hopped out of the truck, making sure the coast was clear for Sammy to join her on the passenger side. Daryl came around from the front of Sammy's vehicle, tossing her the keys to shove in her front pocket.
"What's the plan?" Sammy asked. She was slightly shaking as she was nervous about the Eaters lurking around. She still didn't have the confidence to take down one of the Walkers like Daryl and possibly Scout, so she wanted to try and stick with one of them.
"I'll head up to the roof of one of these buildings, keep an eye out for things. Daryl, why don't you go inside the building and see what's in there. Sammy, you stay out here and look for some gas. Your truck takes diesel, right?" Sammy nodded at Scout with a frown on her face. "The bus might be diesel, so we can start with that."
Daryl looked at Sammy, hesitating as he probably knew she wanted to stay with him. She still looked green and not like herself at all, but Scout was right, they each needed to do their part to get to the safe zone in Atlanta. Sammy nodded at him, "I'll catch up with you once I'm done, or I'll radio you if I stick with Scout."
"Radio either way, got it?" Daryl demanded. She gave him a small smile, continuing to nod. He quickly checked his person for the number of weapons he had, handing her the familiar knife back before entering the building through a side door. The mall was on the smaller side, only being connected by a handful of larger buildings. It was a single story but was designed for high end retail. Other shops were located all around the small mall along with restaurants and nicer fast-food places. Unbelievably, there wasn't a McDonalds anywhere in this little town.
"Ready?" Scout called for her, having already found a gas can and a hose. Sammy followed her, looking around for any Walkers. Scout showed her how to syphon gas, since she didn't know how, and followed her to another bus to attempt to do it on her own.
Sammy looked up at Scout as she was bent over the gas can. "So how did you learn to do this?"
Not looking at Sammy immediately, as she was watching their backs, she pulled her lips down in a frown. "I told you my dad was a sheriff, right?" She glanced at Sammy who politely nodded. "Well let's just say I was a crappy daughter growing up. I didn't understand why he was always working long hours and not home with me. I did some petty things and took advantage of my dad's position as an officer."
"And one of those petty things was stealing gas, huh?" Sammy threw a smirk at Scout, finding it a little humorous. "There's no judgement from me, I used to steal cash from any man that carried a wallet."
Whatever Scout was going to say back was lost as a loud noise overhead drew their attention. Both girls abandoned their posts and skirted around abandoned cars, making their way to a ladder that went up to a roof. Scout led the way as Sammy trailed behind, hearing growls and slow-moving feet on the pavement. She looked behind her for a moment, seeing more than ten heads weaving around cars to follow the noise above them. Turning back, Sammy climbed the ladder as quick as she could before hunkering down on the roof beside Scout.
Voices on the radio Scout carried were loud and unfamiliar to them before army trucks drove by. Men fired an automatic weapon that had been welded to the bed at the undead as they went. A voice Sammy did recognize hooted over the radio. "Give me the radio!" She tried to pull at Scouts pants, but the other woman slapped her hands away.
"You can't talk to them!" At Sammy's furious expression, she elaborated. "They won't hear you. This radio can only communicate with the one Daryl has."
"Hey! You see that?" Daryl's voice crackled through the radio.
Sammy successfully ripped the device from Scout. "Yes, Timmy is there! Can you catch up to them?"
"Guy in here says they're on the other side of the building. Get down here."
"On my way." Sammy shoved the radio at Scout, looking around the roof for an easy way down.
"Follow the roof, stay on the East side, it'll be easier to get down through a gap. Keep out of the big open spaces. Watch your back!" Scout shouted to her.
Sammy was filled with excitement knowing her brother was close by. She hadn't seen him for a few months since he started another tour. She remembered he took care of her as often as he could before her grandparents took her, but she also knew he felt relieved when they did. Around high school, she figured out it was Timmy who tracked them down and called them, not her father or any good Samaritan.
Slowing down, Sammy pulled herself from her thoughts as she saw a ladder in a small alley between the buildings. Peering down the ladder and turning to look further down the alley, she only saw two Eaters stumbling over themselves. They had been locked outside somehow, both dressed in fairly clean work clothes. She could tell one was a waiter as he was dressed in black attire with a white, short apron tied around his waist. The other was a chef as she was dressed in white.
Her time to catch up with Daryl was running short and she didn't want to miss him passing through without her. She quickly patted down her hips, hands shaking as she felt both knives attached to her belt still. She did her best to not think about what exactly she would be doing with the knives and focused more on getting down the ladder and not falling off.
Once her shoes touched the ground, she pulled the blade from her left hip and ran as fast as she could into the waiter, who was closer to her. She needed as much momentum as she could get as she drove the knife into the back of the guy's head. As he dropped, she trained her eyes on the chef who noticed her. Sammy couldn't pull the knife free from the waiter's skull and decided she didn't have time to panic about it, using the one on her right hip.
Since the chef was facing her and getting uncomfortably close, Sammy ran at her, faking her out as she turned left to go behind her. She aimed for the same spot as the waiter but was more successful at retrieving her knife. She had to put her foot on the back of the waiter's skull and pull the knife handle with both hands before it finally came out. A moment passed before she put her left hand on the wall as she gagged from the stench. She wiped the corners of her mouth, feeling slightly proud that she didn't actually vomit before spotting the door that would lead her to Daryl and the military.
She opened it the same time another door was opening from inside the mall, recognizing the front of the crossbow as Daryl aimed to kill. She felt relieved to see him, starting for him just as a heavy hand tangled in her hair. Her shriek alerted Daryl to her, firing his bolt faster than she could remember one of her knives.
Sammy felt the hand in her hair go slack, pulling out a few strands of her hair as the undead fell to the floor by her feet. She didn't look at them as she ran the rest of the way to Daryl. He pulled her behind him as he continued his way through the mall. Sammy drew one of her knives and held it in her hand as she swept her eyes around the racks of clothes they traveled through.
She would have probably worn some of the clothes in the store, but with a quick look at one of the price tags, realized it would have taken more than two of her bartending checks to afford it. "Wait, Daryl." She whispered, taking a shirt from the clothes rack. Daryl turns around to see her pulling off her dirtied shirt. She quickly pulls the new one over her head and smooths it down her flat stomach. Her face is still dirty and hair still greasy, but she felt a little better knowing her shirt was a clean one.
Daryl scoffed at her. "Want some new pants too? Some makeup?" He was making fun of her, but she nodded at him anyway.
"New pants would be great. Wearing shorts isn't great when the undead want your flesh." She said, her voice snarky as she looked around for pants. Daryl shut up and pointed at a rack of women's pants an aisle over to the right. Sammy took off while Daryl kept watch. She found her size quickly, tossing her dirty shorts to the ground and stuffing her feet in the pant holes. They were a little loose for her taste, but with a belt that was conveniently hanging nearby, she made it work.
"Done yet?" Sammy tapped Daryl's shoulder, silently telling him she was. He moved forward without looking at her, eyes still looking for potential danger. Though, they made it out of the rest of the clothing store, not seeing any more Walkers. Sammy was able to tie up her hair with a scrunchie that was found in a package on one of the shelves. She didn't want anyone to touch her hair after how many tried to use her long locks to their advantage. She figured most people would be willing to part with it if it meant they wouldn't get eaten, but she was not. Sammy thought of herself as one of the girls in America's Next Top Model that cried over her hair. She wouldn't be a participant on that show, undead walking or not.
Suddenly realizing Daryl was a few paces ahead of her, she stopped thinking of irrelevant things and caught up to him. He turned a sharp eye to her once he felt her latch onto his shirt, but otherwise kept moving.
They made quick work of the hardware store connected to the clothing one, killing the Walkers as quietly as they could and pausing for a moment so Sammy's gut could threaten to empty. "That's the door to the outside. Ya ready?" Sammy nodded at Daryl, gripping her knife as tight as she could. She had butterflies in her gut, excitement growing at possibly seeing her brother again.
The door opened a small amount as Daryl gently pushed on the handle. He stuck his head out, nodding at Sammy to keep up with him. She did her best to take out the undead, finding it easier to silence them when she didn't recognize them. She only struggled with one Walker since he was over six foot. The only way she was able to get him down to her level was to get behind him and kick in his knees. Once down, she drove her knife in the back of his neck.
Spinning around to face Daryl, she attempted to throw her knife long distance at another Walker. The blunt handle landed against her bloodied cheek before clattering to the ground. It would have been funny to Sammy if it wasn't a life-threatening situation. Though Daryl had been quick to take out the dead woman once Sammy's knife failed. "I thought ya were good at that shit?" Daryl mumbled to her as she picked up the fallen blade.
She frowned at him, fanning her eyes over the carnage. "I'm rusty, okay? Knife throwing skills aren't very attractive to most men."
"Hey!" Scout dropped from the roof of the building to the fence post next to it, landing sturdy feet on the ground. "This path has been blocked off." Both Sammy and Daryl blinked at the police cars that kept other vehicles from entering their corner of the lot.
"Why is it blocked off?" Sammy questioned.
"Don't know… C'mon, let's get the truck. Them army guys must have moved out. We'll follow the road down where I saw the caravan heading." Daryl told them, climbing on top of one of the police cars. He held out a hand for Sammy and Scout, helping them climb over and down. They made it back to the truck with ease, finding that most of the Walkers had been truly dead when the caravan came through, unloading their weapons on them. Only a few had survived with bullet wounds to the chest, which Sammy let Daryl and Scout handle.
Not finding Timmy at the end of the mall was a letdown for Sammy, the exhaustion of putting down Walkers and retrieving her knife afterward had sapped her energy. All she wanted was to curl up in her bed and sleep for a week.
Daryl drove again, knowing the path better than either of the girls. He followed a dirt path that the army's caravan had sped down, though he took it at a slower pace. Lines of cars were pushed in single file against the rolling green hills, blocking off the small fence that surrounded the little town.
They were all forced out of the truck as Daryl had to park it. Cars were rolled down in their path with more than a few blocking the rest of the road. "This is blocked off too, huh?" Scout put her hands on her hips as she surveyed the area. Sammy kept close to the truck in case she had to jump in fast while Daryl was frowning at the cars. They all knew who would be laboring them out of the way.
"A'ight, you two stay with the truck. Sam, keep the radio on ya. I'll clear the way." Scout nodded at Daryl, taking the keys from him. Sammy did her best not to get upset about Scout driving her truck before her, instead thinking about keeping an eye open for Daryl in case he needed to be warned about oncoming undead.
Scout and Sammy climbed into the truck as Daryl started moving the cars. "I'm going up top. See if I can't be a better lookout." Sammy told her. Scout nodded and started up the truck, inching slowly behind Daryl as Sammy situated herself with the handheld radio. She was able to see a little way ahead of Daryl. She was able to see a handful of Walkers on the outer fence of cars that might pose a problem and radioed Daryl. "Hey, you have a handful of Walkers by a beige truck, two cars after that red one you're pushing."
Daryl didn't bother responding to her, throwing a thumbs up as a sign he heard her instead. He used the same truck to draw them to him, slashing at the ones that arrived at the truck. Across from him was a small campsite that had been easily over run. There were at least six family sized tents put up with cars sitting next to them. Sammy watched as Daryl disappeared around them, checking to make sure the dead were dead or there weren't any survivors still lingering.
The journey continued in the same fashion. She would warn him of any groups or sneaking undead, he would disperse of them, push cars, and check around the scattered tents on the grassy hill side of the town. Scout was driving at a slow pace, keeping up with Daryl but staying behind enough that they wouldn't be in the way.
When they got to the riverside, Sammy was feeling sleepy, struggling to keep alert. She needed something to her stimulated, and without coffee, there was nothing she could do but slap her cheeks on occasion. She perked up when they came across a few buildings outside the large dam. Tall brick walls surrounded the three buildings, the loud hum of the machines still worked in the dam, and Sammy could make out a dozen people on the roof of one of the buildings.
Daryl had gone inside as Scout parked the truck and waited. There was a large gate that needed to be opened, from what Sammy could see. "Hey Scout, in the glove box there should be a small pair of binoculars. Could you get them for me?" Scout leaned over to the passenger side of the truck and fiddled around in the compartment for a moment, pulling out the binoculars. Sammy thanked the other woman and climbed back up on top of the truck.
Peering through the binoculars, Sammy realized all the people on top of the buildings were alive and not the undead she assumed they were. There were undead surrounding the buildings, but not enough to cause any sort of panic. They had probably found a way in through the fence or were kept in for a reason. Though, Daryl dispersed of them rather quickly before disappearing inside on the buildings.
His voice crackled over the radio a few moments later. "Sam, there's a fuse box in the courtyard. I'm going to flip the switch which should open the gate. Be ready."
Sammy heard voices over some kind of intercom system within the buildings but couldn't make it out over a sudden loud explosion. "Daryl!"
"Walkers in the yard! Get the kids into the safe room!" A male voice with a heavy southern drawl sounded over the intercom.
"Answer me right now, Dixon!" Her voice strained over the radio, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. He was the only one she had left right now. He couldn't die. There was still so much they needed to do. They had to find Merle and Timmy, and then get to a safe zone.
"Sam, calm the fuck down. Tell Scout to get ready with the truck. Someone's going to get the gate while I kill these fuckers." His barking tone left no room to argue. She did as she was told and slipped into the passenger seat with the binoculars.
Gun shots rang out as they pulled up to the gate. Sammy jumped out of the truck, a knife in hand, and started stabbing as hard as she could through the iron bars. She thought she was helping, honestly, but she severely miscalculated when a Walker she assumed was dead, had snatched her arm. "No! No, no, no!" She stabbed at him, anywhere she could as she tried to get herself free.
A sudden splatter of blood coated her skin and hair as two gun shots rang out in the yard. Sammy gasped as shock filled her, her heart raced and beat erratically in her chest. She blinked before looking down at herself, trying to wipe away the rotten blood from her shirt. She didn't recognize anyone around her for a moment, completely focused on her shirt. It wasn't until Daryl grabbed her arms and shook her that she noticed he and Scout were standing beside her.
"Sammy…" Scout looked at her with wide eyes.
"I think… I think I need a new shirt." She tried to swipe at her shirt again, but Daryl's hands moved up her arm, bringing a searing pain to her attention. She cried out, looking to her right shoulder, and watching as dark red blood washed over black Walker blood. "I- I was… Shot. Oh my God, someone shot me."
Sorry this was late. I have three kids under three at home and the oldest refuses to take a nap most days. I also just bought a house and have been figuring out where things are going. Please understand, I'm doing my best to post! I'm also all caught up now.. So posts might be a little slow from now on until I can get a good rhythm at home. Thank you!