CHUPACABRA PART 3

Within a couple blinks, Daryl felt his head start to clear up, like a fog had lifted from his mind. As expected, the illusions of Natasha and Merle were gone, but his body continued to shake. He lifted his head a little and tensed up immediately when he saw a Walker chewing on his boot. The creature looked up and growled at him with these rotten teeth, directly getting them kicked in by Daryl a second later.

Daryl tried to reach for his crossbow but couldn't make it in time before the Walker pounced on him, but Daryl pushed back against the dead. As he struggled against the creature, he saw another slowly stumbling over to them.

In the state he was in now, Daryl could hardly take on one. Dealing with two of them would most certainly be his death.

Scrambling to find anything to fight back with, he grabbed a large branch that had fallen beside him and used it to trip the Walker. He jumped on top and smashed its face in with the branch. With the last Walker nearly on top of him, Daryl fell back and grabbed the arrow in his side. Ignoring the pain, he ripped it out of him and swiftly began to load it into his crossbow with great strain. He aimed it at the dead and pulled the trigger, shooting the arrow right through its head, killing him.

Finally now on his own, Daryl dropped his crossbow and just laid in the sand for a bit, breathing heavily, in immense pain, and still trapped in the ridge.

Since he knew he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, Daryl took a moment to catch his breath before sitting up. He took another look at the situation and just sighed at the state he was in. He could already imagine what his brother would say if he saw him like this, but Natasha though…he wasn't sure what she would say, or if she would even be concerned.

There wasn't much for Natasha to do at camp. She had tried to help out with minor chores, but Lori and Carol were adamant that she took it easy for a couple days. Although she appreciated their concern, Natasha didn't like sitting around and doing nothing. So to curb her restlessness, she decided to sit on top of the RV with Dale during his watch.

"How your legs doing?" Dale asked, adjusting the grip on his rifle.

"Good. I can walk easily enough. Still kinda hurts, but nothing I can't handle. I don't think I can outrun someone right now, but…" Natasha said, letting her words drift off like she wasn't finished speaking.

Dale side-eyed her. "Talking about Shane?"

Natasha frowned a little. "Not…necessarily, but that is a point."

Dale sighed and shook his head. He still can't get over how calm Natasha is about all this, which could easily be mistaken for a lack of concern for herself. "I still don't like this. Just…letting him walk around camp, knowing what he's done. Letting him stay around you."

"I don't think Shane would do something to anyone…at least for now. Myself on the other hand…" Natasha said, falling into silence to think heavily on something. While it's true she thinks Shane will keep to himself for now, that doesn't mean he won't try something against her if he ever got the chance.

Dale noticed this a while back, but it has become more apparent recently. Every time Natasha spoke, she sounded calm and collected, as if she wasn't worried about anything. By no means was she reckless...but calculated. It always appeared that she knew more than she let on. Even if it was true or not.

Dale continued. "You know, if I didn't know any better…I would believe you weren't afraid of anything."

Natasha stifled a laugh. "Funny enough…Carl and Sophia mentioned something like that to me before." She nearly smiled before stopping herself. It hadn't occurred to her until now how long ago that felt.

"So is it true?" Dale asked.

"Hm?"

"Are you really not afraid of anything?" Dale watched her as she slowly pondered the question, taking her time to answer and was in no hurry. Dale noticed that she had a downcast look on her face though.

Natasha chewed on her lips. "Let's just say…sometimes one's own personal demons are scarier than what we're living in right now. "

"So…you're fighting your demons right now? Dale looked slightly puzzled by what she meant, but he was curious. Yet, he also felt it was a dangerous question to ask.

Natasha shrugged. "Isn't everyone? All because the world changes…doesn't mean our demons disappear. They just take on a new form." She sat up steadily and looked up to the sky. She lifted her hand right below the sun, and judging by the angle, she guessed it was 3, maybe 4 o'clock.

"Natasha?" Dale spoke up, drawing Natasha's attention back.

"Yeah?"

"You know…if you ever need someone to talk to, you can always come find me. I'm more than willing to listen," he said sincerely, with a hint of nervousness in his voice. He didn't want to overstep his boundaries, but he knew Natasha was fighting her own battles alone. There may not be much he can do, but he hoped she could rely on him if only a little.

Once again, Natasha took her time to think it over before smiling. "Thanks for telling me. Maybe I will…someday." She squeezed his shoulder before turning around and climbing down the RV. "I'm gonna head back inside before my legs start hurting again. I'll talk to you later." She waved him off before heading to the farmhouse.

Once inside the house, Natasha looked around to make sure she was alone before heading up the stairs where the bathroom was. She entered the small room and looked directly into the mirror with wide eyes. After a second, she turned around and began to search every little nook and cranny of the bathroom. She opened the cupboards, dug through the drawers, and even ripped aside the shower curtain. Natasha looked everywhere, leaving no space untouched.

"I'm assuming you're looking for this?" Hershel suddenly spoke from the doorway.

Natasha froze up the instant she heard his voice. She turned her head up slowly and felt her heart take a dive when she saw an orange pill bottle in his hand. Every muscle in her body tensed up, and she turned her eyes away, feeling more than just a little embarrassed. She felt ashamed.

"I…I wasn't trying…." She sputtered on her words, not even knowing where she was going with them. Instead, she kept her mouth closed and turned her body away.

Hershel didn't look at all upset, just curious and concerned. "Now...I don't blame Rick and them for not knowing what this is, but...I'm assuming you do though?"

Natasha kept her mouth shut tight as her lips began to quiver. A feeling of coldness seeped under her skin, weakening her legs to the point that she had to sit down. She brought her knees up to her chest and laid her head against them, taking a deep breath to keep herself from crying. She was so caught up trying to calm down that she didn't notice Hershel taking a seat beside her on the ground.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered before putting the bottle in her hand. "I'm so…so sorry."