If Tomorrow Wasn't Such a Long Time

I don't even have an excuse for this being late beyond just being uninspired for a long time and then boom out of nowhere- inspiration! I hope this isn't too bland and out of voice for this particular piece. Sorry for the delay. Enjoy!

Also: I own nothing in regards to The Walking Dead. All rights belong to the copyright holder.

Chapter 14

"Fuck." Daryl hissed as he lost his footing, slipping down the sloped ravine. Nope. Not again. He thought as he grit his teeth at the dirt and bark getting caught forcibly under his nails. He wouldn't fall prey to another bolt to the side or possibly worse impalement this time around. Not fucking today. I don't have time for this shit.

He tried digging his heel into the soft soil, hands grabbing for any branch or vine that would keep him from losing his progress. He caught hold of a gnarled root jutting from the foundation of a tree that had a firm foothold in the slope. He puffed his cheeks in sharp breaths as he tried pulling himself further up the root trying to sidestep up the ravine as was the proper method of climbing up a hill with a steep incline. He jerked his shoulder trying to adjust the dig of the crossbow in his back as he made steady grip-holds on the root.

Daryl gnashed his teeth at the pain in his arm throbbing like a hot iron repeatedly stabbing him. He wasn't sure how much more he could take before it just gave out and rendered his arm useless due to the infection he knew was likely festering at that moment. Hell, he could smell the fucking blood congealing through his clothes with its rank smell permeating the earthy air. He bit his bottom lip as he continued pulling himself up little by little up the ravine. He didn't remember the incline being so steep before. Perhaps it was the delirium of the pain starting to set in. He didn't know, didn't really care neither, but from what he could see was the glint of a dulled metal creeping into view as he made his way up.

A renewed fervor was settling inside his chest and a new strength came about him. Daryl felt the climb become less of a chore as he found himself at the top of the ravine, thrusting himself up and over the rail, his boots hitting the welcoming asphalt road. He let out a heavy sigh falling into a pant on his hands and knees, head resting upon the ground. He didn't realize just how much of a trek it had been for him until he clambered back towards the railing, pulling himself up to peer over. It was a decent ravine with an even more unfriendly drop. Maybe at best a 30 yard fall would have awaited him had he not caught the tree root when he had.

Daryl felt a chill run up his spine, hairs on the back of his neck sticking up, and the goose-pimples rising on his forearms. How fuckin' stupid of me. He scoffed, rubbing the heel of his hand across his forehead, trying to rid it of the cool sweat and dirt that had collected from his reprieve. He pushed himself to his feet again and began following the interstate on shaky legs.

His clothes were soaked through and he was chilled right down to the bone. Droplets of water still dripped from the ends of his shaggy hair, pelting him in the face as he hurried through a small car wreck that was in the way of his destination. He didn't care. He was still so close yet so very far from the interstate point that they had all met up the night the farm fell. The sodden clothing had slowed his pace down some, but even worse was the dripping cold of the water still clinging to his clothing and the chaffing on his now open wounds. Had the weather still been a mirthful summer, Daryl might have been less irritated about the situation, but it wasn't. Fall had quietly crept upon them in little bouts as the days grew shorter and their breaths came in chilled puffs in the mornings.

He had to keep moving. Always moving. No more stopping. No more running away. No more hiding from what was always right in front of his face. Daryl could taste how close he was. C'mon, I'm almost there. He reassured himself. He was almost there.

Carol wiped the sweat from her brow letting out a heavy sigh as she pried the door open to the dingy red mini-van she had been working on for the last 20 minutes. She gave it a wiggle and a sudden jerk and the door flung itself wide open sending her on her ass, crowbar letting out a deafening clang to the ground as it skidded away and under a nearby car. Carol let out a soft curse both at falling and the noise that had probably alerted anything dead that they weren't alone in the vicinity.

She got back to her feet, brushing the dirt off her pants. She hunched over trying to see where the crowbar had gone to. Wherever it had gone to—well, it surely was gone for the time being and proved to be a loss now that she no longer had a secondary weapon to stealthily defend herself with. Carol would have to go without for now. As long as she still had her knife, she would be fine temporarily.

The mini-van was a goldmine of baby paraphernalia from diapers, bottles, pacifiers, toys, and possibly canned formula she assumed. She couldn't exactly see any formula inside but with all the signs indicating that her hunch may be correct, Carol knew she had to get in there someway somehow. This was an opportunity she couldn't and wouldn't pass up. She had found maybe a few cans of formula at best that had been half-empty scattered amongst the debris and vacant car trunks. Nothing that she could write home about. Nothing that could last more than a week or two at best either. Judith was a growing baby and needed to be fed at least every four hours.

She swallowed the lump that had been slowly creeping up her throat, pursing her lips. Carol had resigned the notion that Daryl or Rick may never find her. If the worst had come to pass like she only hoped hadn't, then she knew she was on her own. She would have to make do and take the knowledge she had accumulated during her time with Daryl and Rick and apply it now. They weren't there to hold her hand like they had always done. Carol was alone.

A snap of a twig and Carol felt the tensions in her stomach begin knotting itself up in tight coils. She dropped to a crouch, flattening herself against the side of the van. She tried taking slow deep breaths to ease the panic building up in her chest. Her hands slowly moved to her hip where the skinning knife was sheathed, fingers hovering over its button clasp.

Another noise sent her fumbling to unsnap the button clasp on her knife as she heard glass rolling along the asphalt as if a bottle had just been callously kicked around. She heard no gravel crunching under heavy boots or scuffing of shoes being drug along. There was no groaning, growling, or heavy panting; just the clinking sound of the bottle rolling about the ground. She'd have to make a move soon otherwise she could leave herself open to attack and what good was she dead to Judith then?

Carol drew a sharp breath as she crept cautiously towards the rolling bottle still keeping herself hidden behind the cars. She felt she was at a close enough distance that she could safely overtake her opponent by force. She mindfully talked herself up telling her to just go. She absently nodded her head as she drew up her knife like Daryl had shown her. Carol let out a long breath before she lunged from behind the car ready to ram her knife into the skull of whatever thing had kicked the bottle. She found nothing there. Before letting out her sigh of reprieve she made sure nothing was lurking where she couldn't see. She dropped to her hands and knees looking under the cars.

Nothing. Empty space.

Carol got back to her feet and turned to look back towards the now open car. If all that she had hoped for was inside the car, she would be okay for a good chunk of time. She could probably find some place to hunker down and possibly start anew with Judith. The thought made her brow furrow and she felt the need to collapse to her knees and let out a sob, but she wouldn't. Carol couldn't do that now. She was still very much in no place to be feeling vulnerable like that. She drew a heavy breath through her nose, letting it shudder out of her lips as she swallowed the anxiety building in her throat.

She needed him. She couldn't do this all by herself no matter how much she had learned. Carol couldn't go it alone like she knew Daryl could. He was built for all this. She wasn't. No, she wasn't. Carol bit her bottom lip shaking her head. She couldn't have second doubts. Not right now. She had Judith to worry about. That was her goal, her focus: keeping Judith alive; ensuring her safety and survival.

Carol let out a deep breath, pulling herself up by her bootstraps as she made her way towards the car. She slung her pack back onto her shoulder as she climbed into the minivan making her way towards the back seat. She leaned over the back trying to see what was hidden in one of the suitcases she had noticed tucked away under a few blankets and thick winter coats.

She set her bag to the side as she reached over unzipping the bag finding nothing but clothes and toiletries, stuffing the latter inside her bag. She dug under the clothes hoping maybe something had been stuffed hidden away under it all. She was frantically ripping clothes out of the bag, throwing them haphazardly over her shoulder one by one as Carol realized this search may be in vain. When there was nothing left to throw, Carol sat defeated and alone in the mini-van.

Tired hands went to her temples gently massaging her ever growing headache. How was it that Glenn and Maggie always seemed to come back with something needed? Why could it be so easy for them, but a stretch of a miracle for her? It couldn't be that simple for them, could it?

Carol huffed and quickly shoved the empty bag to the side, grabbing the next one that was tucked under all the clothes. She unsnapped the buttons on the front of it, finding nothing but cigarettes and a lighter and a few condoms. She wrinkled her nose, before she thought better of them. Daryl had mentioned before that they could be used to store water and other liquids. Blushing, she pocketed them knowing he'd probably balk at her having not heeded his survival lessons. Carol set aside the lighter and cigarettes, if not for a fire, then for stress as it would be she'd take them. She unzipped the large pocket and felt a wash of relief flow through her. There were two cans of powdered formula and a decent baby bottle. She let out a heavy sigh, wiping the mistiness from her eyes, weariness seeping into her body.

A small incredulous chuckle bubbled from her lips as she hid her eyes with her hand. What had the chances been of her striking out that way? With all the lecherous supplies she'd found, what were the odds that baby formula had been in the bag all along? Surely she was just dreaming up the formula, could she? Carol spread her fingers, eyes peeking through the slats she had created. The formula—it sat there in the bag.

It was real.

Without hesitation, she zipped the bag up and shouldered it. If there was one thing she had learned it was that she needed as many places to store things as possible. There were still several other pockets that she hadn't checked but Carol didn't care. All she wanted was the food for Judith. She could worry about her own needs later. Daryl had put Judith in her charge. Judith came first.

Carol turned to leave the car, both bags in tow—everything went black. She saw stars before the dark and a flash of an object being swung at her, then nothing.

A/N: Please read and review. Yell at me for being late if you all have to. I am so sorry! I hope you did enjoy this. Until next time.