The Wolf You Feed

Chapter Five

Daryl wiped his hands on his pants and got a firm grip on his bow. He muttered a few curses under his breath, feeling the fear course through his body as the giant grey and white stallion reared back, kicking it's hard hooves rear Rowan's head and face. His heart was beating so hard in his chest he could hear it pounding in his ears. Leaving Rowan alone on the other side of the clearing had been a terrible idea. Maybe his worst one yet. If he had stayed with her, he could have shot that damn horse and gotten Molly back. Now he was stuck on the other side of a huge pack of horses, forced to do nothing but watch as the woman he loved was nearly kicked and trampled to death.

"Damn," Carl swore, "I can't get a clear shot." Carl had the rifle. Daryl knew the kid was a good shot with it too. Not the best long distance shooter of their small group. That honor belonged to Enid. But Carl was a close second.

"Jus' as well," Daryl told the boy, "the noise might send them all off runnin' again." Carl nodded.

Molly was now back in the middle of the pack of horses. They were going to have to regroup and come up with another plan to get her back. Daryl was thinking about just shooting the lead stallion. But he didn't want to kill the animal if they could find another way. Despite the fact that the horse had kicked it's hooves up near Rowan, he was still an impressive looking horse. Almost majestic. Daryl was worried about what would happened to the herd if he killed off their leader and protector. He had always been fond of horses and he didn't want this group of them to die needlessly. But if it was the only way to get Molly back, he was going to have to do what he felt he had to do.

"Do you smell that?," Carl asked. He sniffed at the air and glanced around nervously. "Smells like smoke." Daryl pulled himself out of his thoughts and breathed in deep through his nose. He nodded his head at Carl. The boy had a good nose. It did smell like smoke. Daryl wasn't worried at first. Smoke just meant that there were people nearby. Maybe cooking something over a campfire. But the smell was starting to get stronger. Severeal of the horses had their ears back. They were prancing around nervously and Daryl knew they smelled it too.

The smoke was getting thicker and Carl pulled up his shirt to cover his mouth. Daryl was wondering if maybe some kind of forest fire was coming their way. It had just rained two days ago, so the chances of that seemed slim. But that was the only explanation he could think of at the moment. Daryl started trying to signal across the clearing at Rowan. He changed tactics quickly when he saw what she was doing. Before he could stop himself he was screaming at her.

"Stop Rowan! GO BACK!," he yelled. That woman had lost her damn mind. She was on Comet's back, charging into the herd of frightened horses. The smoke was getting thicker, coming from the other side of the clearing. It was going to make the horses stampede up and over the edge of the broken bridge. And now Rowan was in the middle of the herd, being carried along by the press of the other horses. She was calling for Molly, but Molly was stampeding along with the herd.

Daryl raised his bow. He had not wanted to kill the lead stallion. And he really didn't want to shoot Comet. The horse was more than a pet. He was family. Daryl cared a lot for the animal. But he was willing to kill him to save Rowan from being carried off over the edge of the bridge. Daryl lifted his bow and squinted his eyes, taking aim. He didn't hear the footsteps crunching down behind him until it was too late. As he turned towards the noise, the side of his head exploded in pain. Little spots of red and white swam in front of his eyes . Everything went black. And deep down in the darkness he was alone.

TWD

Daryl started to wake up. His head was pounding and when he reached his hands up to feel how badly he was hurt, he found his wrists were bound tightly behind his back. That woke him up. He took stock of his situation immediately. Testing the ropes that held him and trying to see if he could slip out of them. He couldn't. Clumps of his hair were stuck to the side of his face and he guessed they were covered in his own dried blood.

The space around him was small and dark. But there were cracks of light coming in from the top of the small structure. He was locked inside a small metal storage shed. His weapons were gone. That was to be expected. Rubbing his ankles together, he tried to feel and see if the smaller knife he kept in his boot was still there. He was thinking he could slip that out and maybe manage to cut the ropes that bound him. Sadly, it had been taken along with his handgun and the hunting knife he kept in his belt. That was his favorite knife too. Damn.

His chest was bare against the dirty floor and he realized that his shirt was ripped open and along with his weapons, his leather vest was also gone. That made him angry. His vest was the only thing Daryl had left that had belonged to his brother. He lost Merle's bike when the prison fell. Plus, he kept the tiger's eye charm that Rowan made him in the inside pocket of the vest, close to his heart. He understood that people wanted to steal his weapons and supplies. Even his vest. But that charm had no value to anyone but him. It really pissed him off that someone took it. That charm meant more to him than even his wedding ring.

Daryl rolled, pushing with his feet. He managed to get himself into a sitting position and then regretted it immediately. His stomach churned and he turned his head to the side, afraid he was going to puke. He felt light headed. The sensation made him worry about how hard he had been hit and how long he had been unconcious. He started trying to remember how he got here.

Everything came back to him in a horrible flood. The images washing over him and making him even sicker to his stomach. Rowan. On the back of their honey colored horse. Fighting to control the horse as the herd stampeded around her. The last thing Daryl remembered was Rowan being carried away in a sea of frightened horses, heading for the edge of the broken bridge.

Daryl was on his feet in an instant. He started yelling and kicking the door of the shed, ignoring the pounding in his temples.

"LET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!," he shouted. His voice was hoarse and he realized as he yelled how thirsty he was. He also had to pee. Badly. But most of all, he had to get out of this tiny box prison and find Rowan. The thought of her being hurt and afriad somewhere without anyone to help her was more than he could stand. She might be dying. He had to get out. "LET ME OUT!," he screamed. Then he threw himself against the doors. They were locked from the outside, but he was in a shed, not a iron prison. If he slammed into the doors hard enough with his body, the hinges would give out.

There was a flurry of excited voices around the outside of the shed. As Daryl moved to slam into the door of the shed again, it was flung open and he slammed into a person instead, knocking both him and one of his captors to the ground. Daryl was ready to try and fight the person he landed on. But then he realized the person under him was a girl. No more than Carl or Enid's age. She was shrieking and batting at him with her open palms.

Daryl rolled off the girl and got up onto his knees. He closed his eyes at the rush of nausea and bit down on his lip hard to keep from passing out. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times to clear them of the water that had collected under his lids. The girl he had knocked down had been dragged away by another woman. She was brushing herself off and glaring at him, looking half afraid and half embarrassed.

Daryl glanced around at the rest of the small group that was surrounding him. Something was strange about them. It took him a moment to realize what it was. They were all women. Most of them had short haircuts. And they were wearing men's clothing. Maybe trying to appear more masculine. But they were women just the same.

Most of them were holding sharpened sticks or knives. But one of them had Carl's rifle slung over her back. The same one that had dragged the girl he fell on away. She was on the shorter side and skinny through the waist, but very curvy in the hips and chest. Her hair was blonde and she wore it longer than the other girls. At least the ones Daryl could see. Probably to try and hide the horrible scars that cut across one side of her face. Four parellel lines, the top one looked like it had almost taken the woman's eye out. They led back under her hair and Daryl wondered if she still had an ear left on that side. He also wondered what or who had done that to her face. The marks almost looked like scratches from a giant cat.

Daryl opened his mouth to speak and his voice came out choked and scratchy. The blonde woman gestured to someone Daryl couldn't see. A few moments later a girl was standing near him, holding a water bottle. She pulled the cap off and waved it around in front of Daryl's face. He nodded to indicate that he did indeed want a drink. She put the bottle near his mouth and dumped some water in. He tried to chug it back, but it poured out too fast and he ended up gagging on most of it. The girl wrinkled her nose, looking disgusted. Then she tipped the water bottle up more slowly and Daryl was able get a few swallows of water before the bottle was yanked away and the girl disappeared behind him again.

"I need to get out of here," he said. He directed his comments towards the blonde woman with the scars, since she seemed to be the one in charge. "I have to find my wife." The mention of Rowan sent his mind spinning again. He was picturing her in every horrible situation possible. She was so gentle and sweet. He hated to think of her alone out there in the beyond without him for even a moment. He wasn't even sure if she would be able to find her way back to Alexandria without him.

Daryl started trying to get to his feet, but two of the woman put their hands in his shoulders and forced him to stay on his knees. He took a deep breath and stopped resisting. If he wanted to get out of this, he was going to have to stay calm. These girls had not done anything terrible to him yet, besided knocking him out and tying him up. And they might have done that because they were scared. Acting crazy and fighting them was not going to get him untied any faster.

"Wife?," the blonde woman asked, "there was no woman with you. Only the boy." She fingered the gun that was slung over her shoulder. Carl's gun.

"Where is he?," Daryl asked.

"He's safe," the woman said. The corners of her mouth turned up into a sadistic grin that made Daryl doubt her words.

** I am going to be using a few of my OCs from another story as the villians in this story. So if you are also reading the Lady Claimers you might be able to guess who the curvy blonde woman is. This story is completely separate from that one, so you don't need to read it to enjoy this. Thanks to everyone that took the time to leave a review, and I have inspiration photos up on tumblr under my same pen name if anyone would like to check them out. **