Chapter 8: I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day
Late that night she felt Daryl shivering and fidgeting in bed beside her. She rolled back over and pulled the blankets up tighter around her shoulders and tried to fall back to sleep. A few moments later she heard a distinct and repetitive thumping outside. She turned over and shook Daryl's shoulder. He mumbled incoherently and opened his eyes. When she looked down at him she could barely make out his mussed hair and tired eyes. "A walker must've made it's way through the trees." she told him.
"Wha-" he slurred.
"Just rest. You probably haven't slept this well in months." She stood from the bed and pulled her boots on and grabbed her coat from the chair in the corner of the room. She pulled her rifle strap over her shoulder and headed out of the bedroom down the hall and down the stairs.
She checked out all of the lower windows until she found the offending walker. It had been speared by an evergreen tree flanking the side of the shed and was being knocked repeatedly against the structure as the wind pushed through the shelter belt. It was dead. She flipped up the hood of her coat and quietly slipped out through the back door. The repeated thumping was going to keep her awake all night if she didn't rip the offending carcass from the tree.
Even though the wind was gusting through the trees it was doing exactly what Daryl had promised it would. The belt of evergreens were sheltering the house from the snow and cold gusts. She lowered her scarf from her face and poised her rifle and looked warily around the backyard looking out for anything else lurking in the dark.
Shuffling through the small drifts of snow she made it to the twice dead walker and dispatched of its body from the tree. When she turned around to head back to the house three more walkers had appeared ambling through the yard. She ripped off a mitten with her teeth and reached for her knife. It wouldn't do any good to shoot her rifle. If this many were herding through there were bound to be more and they would undoubtedly hear her fire a shot.
She struck the first one in the head, quickly knocking it to the side as the second re-animated body approached. A young woman with a half eaten face covered in snow and ice, she was missing an arm. Carol grabbed her by the hair and reached and plunged her knife up and under through the chin up to the hilt of the blade. The knife refused to release as the Corpse fell and Carol went down with it into the drift she was standing in. A growl came from behind her and she turned to see four more corpses walking in from the tree line. It was the beginning of a herd.
She gripped the handle harder but struggled to maintain a strong enough pull to release the knife. Her hand was bitten through with cold. She reached for her gun and pointed it towards the closest walker and took a shot with shaky hands. It hit the walker in the shoulder and the speed of the visible walkers increased.
"CAROL!" Daryl's voice shouted from the second floor of the house. He was standing at the open window his bow at the ready. "C'mon!" he yelled.
She looked around and kicked a walker backwards. Daryl took down three walkers with his bow and she was able to make it to the backdoor, open it and lock herself inside the house before any reached her. She slid down against the door breathing heavily, leaning her head back. She heard his fevered footsteps on the stairs and he appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.
He glared at her tired figure. She turned to look at him and smiled, "It's cold out there."