If Tomorrow Wasn't Such a Long Time
This chapter was incredibly hard to write and was not beta'd. I really wanted to get this out sooner, but again as such my work life makes this difficult. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Please read and review!
Also: I own nothing in regards to The Walking Dead. All rights belong to the copyright holder.
Chapter 13
His arm was stiff; had been since he had started his trek from the rendezvous point to track down Carol. The pain in his arm was a dull throbbing sensation sending prickles of pins and needles throughout his arm and down to his fingertips. At some point after climbing over a fallen tree trunk and getting his crossbow string caught in the brambles, Daryl had pulled his stitches. The sharp stinging pain had sent him collapsing to his knees with shaky breaths. Maybe Maggie had been right. Maybe he should have rested more before leaving to find Carol and the baby.
The hunter let out a heavy sigh trying his best to steady his breathing as he pushed himself back onto his feet. Regretting the thought that Maggie may have been right about his leave, Daryl absently shook his head and took off after the next blue bead. Nope. He wouldn't stop. They would have to bury his stubborn ass six feet under and then some to keep him from going after Carol. Now that was something he was sure of. It had after all been his idea that he had sent them out in the woods in the first place and he would be damned if any harm befell them all because he made a rash decision.
Daryl let the thought simmer in his brain and felt a surge of anger burst forth. No fuckin' way. No more stopping and no more pussy-footing his injuries. He couldn't afford to waste any more time than he already had trying to nurse his shoulder and leg. He could hear Merle's voice in his head chiding him to suck it up and stop being a little bitch. What was he: a fighter or a quitter? He bit his lip in haste, taking longer strides as he moved with a primal fervor towards his destination.
Where was Carol going? What had made her want to go in this direction? He knew Judith was likely the push for her to move out from her position in search of formula, but why? What was in this direction that caused her to leave? Why didn't she just listen like he said and stayed there?
"Dammit Carol." He hissed as he trudged through the brush, the pain in his shoulder starting to set in.
Carol cooed softly to Judith as she brushed the small tuft of hair out of her eyes. The baby happily gurgled in response letting out a small giggle as her tiny hands reached out for Carol to hold her. She grimly smiled at the small bundle and gently shook her head.
"I will be right back, Judith. Be quiet for me, okay?" Carol whispered as she brought the pacifier to the baby's lips. She sighed in relief as Judith took the pacifier, wide eyes wandering around the gray interior of the abandoned pickup truck Carol had found.
That had been a wonderful victory. Carol's legs were just about to give out after clambering over the rail when in the distance she could see the graveyard of cars that they had encountered after their journey from the CDC. She knew her feet were full of blisters and open sores but she had to keep moving. So far she had been lucky. There hadn't been a single walker in sight since she had been at the rendezvous point the day before. Luck could only get her so far before it ran out and she knew she was pushing it. Carol forced her legs to continue working. She couldn't quit not when there was still only an hour's worth of daylight left. She had to make it.
Carol felt her legs taking longer mechanical strides, her pace quickening as the abandoned cars slowly became larger and larger in view. She ignored the cramping pain in her legs and the ache in her feet as her spring grew faster with each step. She came across the first hatchback and collapsed against the hood panting having made a dash for it. The sight of the cars provided a certain incentive to force her want to get there faster. She had made it. That was all she needed to know and care about. She took a moment to catch her breath, her hand gently massaging her chest to ease the fire burning in her lungs. It had been quite some time since she ran like that. She had grown too accustomed to the comfort of the prison; that would have to change when she got back― if she ever did.
Carol grimaced at the victory from last night and placed a gentle kiss atop Judith's head with the ever looming notion that her friends may never find her. She softly shut the truck door, windows cracked ajar so air circulated through. She'd been lucky in that regard. She had found an old pickup with manual windows. A corpse had been dangling by the seat buckle out the door which she had to cut loose. It fell with a loud thud at her feet and she quickly drug it away, pushing it under the guardrail. The body rolled down the ravine with a stifled crash at the bottom.
Carol hastily furnished the cab setting up a small bundle of blankets at the floor passenger-side so Judith wouldn't squirm off the seat as she slept. She had heaved a sigh of relief at finding the pickup. Her luck had started picking up and it eased her worries of their survival. With everything being manual inside the cab, she could easily dictate the amount the window was rolled down or up. There was no need to rely on electronically controlled car locks or windows. Carol had the added bonus of the keys still being in the ignition. The man whoever he was had died in his car, but from what she would never know. He left not a thing to indicate he had opted out or been killed by walkers. Despite these things, she felt bad that his misfortune had been her fortune. They were safe for the night and she was glad for that one small piece of solace.
She had to focus now. She could be thankful later when she found formula to feed Judith. The highway had been eerily quiet all night. There should have been some sort of wild animal howling at the moon or the chittering of insects, maybe the creaking of old vehicles, but not a single living or dead thing gave indication it was nearby. It didn't sit well with her. Carol took her pistol off 'safety' and left it unholstered at her hip, Daryl's skinning knife in hand as she began her search for food. She had to be prepared as best as possible.
Carol took light steady steps as she crept low amongst the cars doing her best to step over the debris from the wreckage of cars, peeking through the glass of each car she came across. She peered inside of the closest window to her pickup. No car-seat. She moved along to another car keeping low to the ground. Another empty backseat. There had to be at least one car with a car-seat. If she could find just one, then maybe she could loot the trunk for the formula that was hopefully stowed away.
A few cars she had stumbled upon had boxes of food, but she skipped over those. Carol could wait for food despite the hunger pang that waned in the back of her mind and in the pit of her stomach. She had learned to go without on many occasions during the winter months, but Judith was still a growing baby. If they were going to ensure her survival, Judith came first no matter what. She was their last glimmer of hope for a future, as bleak as it was, and she would do her damnedest to make sure she made it out alive.
The smell of death no lingered as it had before. The grasses had grown thick around the tires of the cars. The hoods of the vehicles weathered from the sun's harsh rays accompanied with a thick layer of dust. There had not been any rain since early in the spring; not a single drop. Already Carol could feel the nip of winter. A smooth breeze was biting at her exposed skin.
Carol couldn't go back to the pickup now. She had work to do.
Daryl was running. At this point he didn't give a shit if he tore his stitches or impaled himself with another bolt. He wasn't the only one hunting in the forest. Another set of tracks had been found alongside Carol's beads and they weren't hers neither. Again he had ignored what was obvious in front of his face and now he was going to pay the price for his foolish observations. This could cost Carol her life― Judith's too.
His crossbow smacked against his back as he hurried through brush, ducking under tree branches. He didn't even care if he was following the bead trail. He had figured out where she was heading: the interstate. She was looking for another landmark that was visible and familiar. Carol was looking for something that she knew all her friends were aware of. As bad the memories were of the place, the interstate was the best chance Carol had of him finding her, but also just as terrible. Another walker herd could pass through or something much worse: a group of survivors could chance upon them and then it would be game over for her.
Daryl couldn't think like that. Not when he was so close to finding her.
It wasn't just the one set of tracks he was worried about. There had been several other sets of tracks. Heavy boot prints. What bothered him most was that they weren't walker tracks. The boot tracks were purposeful in their stride. How long ago had the beads been left there? Was it a day? Two days? The tracks were still relatively fresh, but he couldn't tell how long ago they really had been left there. For all he knew, Carol could be―
"Fuck." He grunted as he ran faster. He had to keep going. The pain in his leg was progressively getting worse. His bandage had come loose and the raw skin was chaffing from the movement from his pants. Daryl knew the graze would open up again and a new rash would fester in its place. That was the least of his worries.
With all the noise going on in his head, Daryl failed to see the uprooted tree stump. It's gnarled roots jutting up from the ground below in a tangled mess. His boot caught the root and thrust him forward, tumbling face first. Daryl was falling and all he could see was a whirl of water and mud. His vision went black for a split second as his head hit the rocky bed of the bank. Everything around him was spinning in and out of focus. He could feel a cold biting into his flesh as it lapped around his entire body. He sputtered as the water filled his nose and mouth and he choked. His hands were scuffed and shredded from trying to catch himself. His hands had slipped against slimy algae at the bottom and he lost his footing crashing face first into the bank, slamming his head against the rocks. He rolled heaving and coughing up the murky water, clearing his lungs the best he could.
Daryl sat up spitting the water out of his mouth, letting out a choked gasp for air. His fingers traveled to his temple where he had fallen. He could feel the lump forming where he had crashed against the rocks. The bump was swollen and tender to the touch. He could feel the blood rushing to the area and knew a headache wasn't too far away neither. Daryl withdrew his hand, quickly glancing over his fingers making sure he wasn't bleeding. There were some slight stains but nothing to really concern himself with. He ran his hands over his torso making sure he hadn't fallen on any of his bolts again. He may not have cared if he had before he fell into the water, but it would still be embarrassing all the same. Daryl let out a rasped chuckle knowing if he had impaled himself for a second time within a year he wouldn't live it down if he made it back to the prison.
He clambered to his feet, pushing up from his knees to a stand; legs shaking from his soaking wet clothes and the gentle breeze that didn't make him feel any better about his current situation. Daryl thought about stripping down real quick to prevent hypothermia knowing that would take up precious time he didn't have or he could just suck it up and keep pressing forward. He absently shook his head and began his climb up the muddy bank and back onto his path. He would just have to deal with it. There were more pressing matters than a catching a cold.
It took him a few seconds to realize where he was and Daryl suddenly felt a pull at his core. He recalled having climbed up this bank before. He'd sloshed around in this murky little creek trying to track Sophia when she had been chased down by walkers that fateful day. He would have naturally just assumed the worst when he had found her tracks diverting from the natural trail she had been going, but something had told him to hope that she had just been spooked and veered off out of fear. He wrinkled his nose, glaring harshly at the ground. He wouldn't let that happen to Carol. He'd never forgive himself. He didn't want to continue what was left of his life knowing that the one thing he had grown to care about had been taken away from him in that manner. Hell or high-water. He would find Carol.
He paused for a moment trying to collect himself. He shut his eyes, listening only to the staccato thrumming of his pulse in his ears. There was nothing else but himself out in the woods. He had to move. He couldn't continue thinking if he found Carol. That wouldn't make things any easier if he found her dead or a walker. He had already dealt with that before and he wouldn't do it again. His stomach had been twisted in knots and his chest heavy.
Daryl understood now why the thought of Carol being gone had made him feel that way. He had pushed those feelings away hoping that if he never felt them then it wouldn't matter when those he had grown to care about were taken from him. Carol was different though. She had fearlessly followed him without question and proved time and time again her fierce loyalty to him. He had never asked any of those things from her; that had been of her own volition. From that Daryl knew, had known, for a long time that he had grown to care for her. It scared him that her life mattered more to him than his own. He was going to bring her home, even if it killed him.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know what you thought of this chapter!