Sorry for the small delay; school and whatnotz.
Another chappy up (tis a bit short, apologies), and we're almost done! Enjoy, and thanks as always!
It would be difficult to drag himself off the floor that morning.
They'd all eaten to the point of bursting the night before, unable to really store anything away without proper means for preserving foods. Since their time in the park, what they brought from the farm, what he killed and what others found growing was what they ate. And if it was perishable, it was eaten on the day.
He'd gone to sleep with a full stomach, but he doubted that its expanded capacity was the reason behind its gurgling through most of the night.
His mind flew in a thousand different directions, his conversation with Rick sitting heavily on his chest as he stared up at the black ceiling of the RV.
Daryl knew what he needed to do; knew what he wanted to do.
But he didn't know how.
And so he'd laid there in mild discomfort, listening to her soft breathing in the bed above him until he'd finally fallen asleep.
The morning dawn filtered through the Winnebago's windows and Daryl stood and stretched, the forest calling him to seek out the day's meal for the group. He knew his skill set well, knew that one of his primary purposes in camp was to provide sustenance for the others.
That was fine by him.
Hunting meant getting away from the crowd for at least a part of the day.
Movement from the bed drew his sleep-filled gaze down and he felt frozen at the sight of the woman in the dim lighting. Carol was sprawled halfway on her stomach, face lingering off the pillow under her head and one arm hanging down off the side of the bed.
He hadn't noticed her hand dangling by his head when he awoke.
Her legs shifted and the suspended hand twitched.
Daryl felt sure that if it remained it would eventually go numb. She would probably just pull it back up herself…
So grab the bow and leave, then.
He chewed on his tongue and looked down the length of the RV, noting Dale's absence. The old man was known to come inside in the mornings to crank the old vehicle up and ensure it was still running.
The front seat was empty and he turned back to the unconscious body in the bed.
Bending down, he gritted his teeth and reached out…
His fingers tingled as they wrapped around her arm, just under the elbow, coaxing it to bend until her body jerked (along with his) and she rolled away from the edge of bed slightly, finishing the movement for him.
He watched as she drew the arm across her now exposed stomach and sighed quietly in her sleep.
Daryl held his hand over her for a moment, considering the possibility of touching her again. After all, her shirt was hiking up just a bit, and he could-
Get your bow and go fuckin' hunting.
He withdrew from her with a snort and snatched the crossbow from its place beside the bed.
Touching Carol in her sleep wasn't gonna put food on the table.
The loud snap of the bolt being released was always satisfying to his ears, as was the slightly slick crack of the arrow sliding into its target at over two-hundred feet per second.
Daryl stared down at the hare as it stopped twitching and fell into death, his mind going blank as a gust of wind blew through the trees around him. For a moment he thought he heard a howl in the air, and he quickly snatched the bolt from the small animal and reloaded it before taking the hare and adding it to his string.
An uncomfortable feeling very different from the one he'd woken up with seemed to linger in the dark corner of his consciousness as he scanned the forest's edge, gauging his distance from the camp.
The trees swayed and cast shadows on the forest floor, the birds in their tops going quiet and many taking flight. He gripped the bow and crossed over the stone path that followed the creek, picking up his pace as slowly, his mind began to recognize the feeling that nagged him.
The trees gave way to the bright green and flowery yellow of the fields and he broke into the open area with a brisk walk, stopping to turn in all directions and search for movement.
Another wind blew and again, and the sound of distant howling came with it.
Daryl stepped backward as he listened closer, his gut churning and the blood in his veins rushing with energy.
Not howling.
Moaning.
The lingering dread turned to panic and flooded his eyesight.
Turning on a heel he ran, droplets of blood flinging into his face as the string of dead animals flew haphazardly across his shoulder.
He heard the shouts as he raced into camp, the cries of the baby and Lori screaming at Carl to follow her into their cabin. The Walkers were already stumbling down the lakeside toward them, and as he rounded the bank opposite the small herd he fired a bolt at the one nearest to him, knocking it off its feet as it fell at the water's edge.
Slinging the string off his shoulder he flung it onto the dock and secured the bow over the other before reaching back to snatch the pistol out of the back of his pants.
He hesitated, however; counted the number of Walkers and considered the best course of action.
Eight remained by his count, and already Rick, Shane, T-Dog and Glenn were racing forward with machetes and bats and crowbars, ready to bludgeon them rather than shoot outright.
He met Rick's gaze and nodded, taking his lead and switching back to the crossbow.
As he fired at another he could see past the clash of man and monster, and further into the camp he caught sight of Dale on the RV, rifle raised and ready to fire at Rick's signal. Andrea brandished Shane's shotgun but wasn't joining the men in the fray; she ushered Maggie towards Lori's cabin and he could see the look of fear on the younger woman's face, her concern for Glenn obvious even to him, even from such a distance…
Daryl felt time stop and his heartbeat speed up as his eyes darted in search of the two missing members of the group. He did not stop to ponder whether or not he truly considered Mike a part of them…
He rushed past Rick as the man brought a machete down into a Walker's skull, ignored the curses of Glenn's efforts to drive a crowbar into another.
His eyes searched for movement and found it by the side of the Rec building.
Behind him, he could hear Shane shout,
"Two more! Goddammit!"
But he did not turn to see whether Shane meant two left, or two additional…
His eyes narrowed at the sight of Mike grasping Carol in his arms, whispering words into her ear before nodding to the RV. He saw her turn in his grip and nod.
A moan sounded behind him and Daryl whipped around to drive a buck knife through the eye of the dead woman that staggered at him, the Walker's close vicinity to the back of his neck doing nothing to shake him.
A herd the size of Alabama could trample through the park and his nerves would not be as unset as they were by the sight of another man running his hands across Carol's shoulders…
Mike was whispering again, and at his last word Carol shot out from beside the building, making for the Winnebago. Mike himself pulled out his own knife and headed behind her. Daryl caught Dale's reaction to their flight, his rifle training over them before moving over the three Walkers still shambling into camp.
Two additional, apparently.
Rick raced past him and brought another down.
But Daryl could see that Carol was seconds away from being cut off from her safe haven atop the RV.
His last bolt loaded, he let it fly to kill the one closest to her before reaching behind him to pull his blade from the Walker at his feet.
With a snarl he set forward, breath on fire and eyes red in more ways than one. He all but shoved Rick aside with the force of his sprint, shouting with a guttural tone that shocked even him:
"Carol! Stop!"
The woman froze and so did Mike.
The remaining Walker reached for her just as Daryl barreled into its side, toppling the broken heap of rotting meat and wasting no time in sliding the metal into the side of its soft skull with an animalistic grunt.
As the camp fell silent he stood and turned to check behind him, noting that all members of the group were unbitten and accounted for. Rick and Shane huffed for breath from their efforts chasing after him, Glenn and T-Dog standing closer to the lake and scanning the fields beyond for more intruders.
He felt Carol come to stand next to him and he whirled on her, his face so close that their noses touched and he panted hot breath against her so heavily that her eyes blinked against the onslaught.
He saw those eyes run across his face again, her lips drawing down and then up, that goddamn half-smile forming and his mind still reeling in such chaos that he simply didn't have the energy to try and figure out its meaning….
"Carol? You okay?" Mike's voice cut the air behind the woman and Daryl's jaw clenched.
With a glance toward Rick he breathed deep and remembered their conversation.
Don't kill him. Don't.
She turned her back on him to give Mike her assurances, her words gentle but shaky with lingering nerves and a touch of fear.
With no thought to his actions he stepped forward and drew closer, careful not to make contact with her back but coming dangerously close.
From over her shoulder he breathed out and drew his lips tight.
Met Mike's concerned gaze.
And glared his final warning.