Chapter Text
It had been a while since Daryl had a wink of sleep. He managed to build a sort of tree house high in the branches of a generous old oak tree near a river embankment. From there he could keep an eye on things. Maybe hunt a squirrel or two, stay quiet and hidden from the random passing walkers, but definitely not sleep. He hadn’t been feeling quite as confident since Merle died. Certainly not since leaving the group back at the prison. He figured he could probably find his way back there if he wanted, but the thought left him feeling inadequate. He wasn’t sure he could face Rick yet. Deep down he knew when he left them that it wouldn’t end well, but he was so ready to be back with his brother, his blood, just like the old days that the false sense of security blinded him. He should have known – nothing was like the old days. Not ever again. The world turned to shit and nothing and nobody was going to ever be okay. Sitting alone in his little makeshift nest, he felt this now more than ever.
He knew it been too long since he’d eaten. His limbs felt weak. His stomach was in a knot. His eyelids were heavy but refused to close. He was caked in filth and too sore to move. If he could even just get down to that river for a quick bath and a few gulps of water he knew it’d make a difference. But he felt paralyzed with something he wasn’t used to – fear. With so much down time all alone he felt the reality around him closing in. Visions and flashing images of rotten teeth coming after his throat, pale lifeless eyes finding him in their haze. Disembodied heads still chomping and searching for his flesh. He couldn’t shake it anymore. Being part of a group used to keep him busy enough to not let this hell get to him as much. Out here in the wilderness with nothing but the sound of his own shaky breath, it was consuming him.
For the first time in a few days, Daryl mustered up the energy to climb a bit out onto the biggest branch and search for signs of safety. Perched like an alert chipmunk, cross bow in hand, he waited and listened. Frogs croaking. Birds chirping. Water running in the near distance. No footsteps, no hoarse moaning or shuffling about. Things seemed quiet. He anxiously glanced back at his spot in the tree and fought everything in him that was screaming to never leave it again. He climbed down onto solid ground. Securing his last few supplies in a small duffel bag, his weapons within reach on his person, and taking a deep breath, he stepped back out into his world. He decided to set goals for himself. First, get to that river. Wash up a bit, have a drink of water. Next, search for some berries or anything that was at all edible. Maybe he’d get lucky and score a fish or a frog in the river. After that… hit the road.
The water was cold and refreshing and he gulped down more than he thought he’d want. It revived him so much he didn’t want to stop. He let it run over his wounded hands and pulled some through his dangling hair. The humidity had been getting better over the last several days, he guessed autumn was approaching. But the coolness still felt amazing against his sweaty skin. Finally satisfied, he gathered himself together again and walked along the river a bit to find what he could. He kicked a log over, nothing good. Keeping his eyes peeled he spotted an elderberry bush not too far. He picked everything he could off of it, popping a few berries into his mouth and stashing the rest in his bag. He was feeling better already, and decided to arm himself properly and really get out of there. Peering back at his tree once more, he sighed and found a trail to follow. No turning back now, he had to keep going or he’d never leave.
After about a mile in Daryl felt himself getting his bearings back. The trails started speaking to him again. He hadn’t spotted any threats yet and the trees kept him shaded from the rising afternoon sun. More encouragement – a hickory sapling sprouting large fragrant buds that he knew would sustain him for a while. He found himself thanking the tree for being available to him like an answered prayer, gingerly removing the nuts and packing some away while biting right in to a few of them. They were incredibly filling and the protein was just what he needed. Daryl may have even smirked to himself a bit. Maybe this was worth it, he thought.
He guessed it had been about 3 miles from his starting point when it looked like things were getting a little less rural. There was a main road running east just a bit ahead, and the trees started to clear out. He got his crossbow at the ready and continued carefully. His focus was much better now and his eyes were everywhere. After so long without spotting a single walker he knew it was any minute now that his luck would turn.
Sure enough.
Just through a clearing, near a tiny log cabin in a state of disrepair was a lone walker. Shriveled head down, barely moving, arms limp and feet shuffling over each other slightly. Slack jawed and in a tattered plaid shirt, it didn’t even get a chance to sniff out Daryl’s living flesh before he buried an arrow deep into its gelatinous membrane. The thing dropped and Daryl took a quick look around to make sure he didn’t stir up any trouble. He lightly stepped towards it and yanked the arrow out of its head. Cleaning it off with a rag, he re-loaded the crossbow. It was then that he heard more movement. He crouched behind a larger oak and remained breathless. A few more creatures came wandering out of the brush, at the moment unaware of his presence. Daryl knew if it was just a handful he could take them on, but where there were a few there was bound to be a lot more. More often than not these days, the dead traveled in packs. It was becoming increasingly rare to find any totally secluded. He peeked over his left shoulder to the direction they were coming but the edge of the cabin was blocking his view. He couldn’t tell how many there were. He grabbed at the large knife on his belt, knowing it was better for close combat.
The walkers were making their way forward on his right without noticing him. He quietly slipped around the left side of the tree to make it to the north side of the little cabin. Maybe he could slip inside and wait it out. Better to not make contact and attract them all if possible. Just as he located the back door and was about to make his move, Daryl heard a shuffling coming from inside the cabin. Not the dead kind, either. It was a scuffle, and it was getting louder. He noticed a walker turning towards the building, gaining suspicion. Then another. He clambered for the door knob and crawled inside the cabin, shutting the door behind him as quietly as he could. He stood up, crossbow aimed at two large walkers who were coming after someone. They must have come in from the smaller back door, which was hanging open. He couldn’t tell clearly enough who it was fighting the things, but it was alive, and struggling to stay that way. The fight was getting noisy and he started to hear walkers approaching the cabin, bumping against the walls trying to get in. He took the first shot and brought down the larger one who fell stupidly into a table that broke in half under its weight. He could see more clearly now that it was a woman, about his height and strong as she was, her weapons had fallen to the floor and she was defenseless. Daryl grabbed the knife back out of his belt again and came up behind the thing, stabbing it right in the skull. It fell to the floor. The woman stood in disbelief, gasping for air, and choked out “who the hell are you?!” a little too loudly. Daryl put a finger to his lips, whispering “shhhhh!”
The wall they were closest to had a busted out window and a hole going straight through the rotten lumber below it, and was starting to attract the horde. Daryl pushed the girl to the ground and threw the smaller walker on top of her. He laid down next to her and pulled the other body on top of him. He knew they’d be able to sniff them out with that exposure to the outside, but if they played this right the walkers may lose interest. The girl stared at him terrified and disgusted, but Daryl reached out and put a firm hand over her mouth clearly instructing her to keep quiet. He kept his eyes on the broken window and watched as the monsters growled and groaned and tried to get in. After several minutes, several reaching, rotten hands poked and pried and found nothing, and eventually moved on. They lay under the bodies for quite some time until everything went quiet again. Nothing but the birds and the forest.
Daryl shoved the corpse off and stood up, brushing himself off. He took a minute to locate his knife and crossbow before casually freeing the girl. She popped to her feet and shuddered, as if shaking off the stench of the dead and looked around without knowing what she was looking for, still in shock. There was silence between them.
“Thanks for that…” was all she could come up with to break the ice. Daryl remained quiet and shrugged, heading towards the door. “Wait! Where are you going?” she sounded desperate.
“I’ll be on my way,” he grumbled.
“You’re…you’re just gonna leave?”
He shrugged again. “I ain’t lookin’ to make friends. I’m sure you got some on their way back here and I ain’t gonna be around for small talk.”
“No..no you don’t get it. I’m it. I was separated from my group a few weeks ago I think, been holed up here ever since. That’s the first of any geeks I’ve seen come through.” She was pleading.
Daryl paused. “Just you in here?”
“It’s just me. God, I never thought I’d see another LIVE person again. All I have’s a pick axe and a good arm, but yeah. It’s just me.” She was almost out of breath. The prospect of not being alone anymore was too good to let walk away from her like this. Daryl seemed conflicted at the door. He knows what happens in this world now. You make friends and then they die. You have family and they get eaten in front of you. You make a connection with anyone and they get ripped away in no time. There wasn’t time for that anymore, he was better on his own. Without another back to watch out for. But could he really leave her alone like this? He did still have some decency left, no matter how strong the walls he tried to build were. He was hesitating and he hated it.
Daryl peeked out the small window near the door to check on the situation out there. He saw the last walker of the group lumbering away into the woods, out of sight. He walked across the room towards the girl, but straight past her to the broken window and peered out carefully. Things seemed quiet over there too. He stood there for a moment, one hand fiddling with the crossbow he was holding and the other anxiously running through his greasy hair.
“What happened to your group, then? They left you? You got a base I can getcha back to?”
“No, no we were a small group. There was only five of us in a van. On the road the whole time. We kept searching for somewhere larger, more solid. We picked up a kid a way’s back who was talking about this town he knew of, all set up and protected with walls and guards and everything.” Daryl’s interest perked up. Woodbury. “But we lost him not far after he joined up. Stupid shit went too far into the woods to take a piss and we heard the screaming…we knew he was a goner. We just left. Never did figure out where this town he was talking about might be, or if it was even real.”
“It’s real, alright.” Daryl was staring out the window, fixated on a bird searching through leaves for a snack. “Woodbury,” he said plainly as he turned to her. “it’s called Woodbury and it ain’t no place you wanna be.” He stalked across the room back towards the door.
“Oh,” she said, eyes falling to the floor. “Well. I don’t know if the rest of my people wound up there or not. We stopped a few miles back south and some trouble came along, I was inside a shop scavenging for supplies when they got attacked and left me there. I stayed for a while before starting out on my own. Found this dump and…here we are.” She was hoping he had a suggestion for what happens next, but was becoming aware that his plans did not include her. Daryl remained silent for a moment, still meddling with his bow. He knew if he took this girl on, the right thing to do would be to try and head back to the prison. It was probably at least a five day’s walk, but he could find the way. His stomach churned at the thought. This was not his plan when he left that tree.
He sighed. “You got a name?”
She brightened up a bit, hopeful. “Cassie. You?”
“Daryl.” He straightened up in his stance and held his bow a bit tighter, as if revealing his name made him vulnerable to attack and he needed to be at the ready. The opposite happened in Cassie’s body, she finally relaxed and looked relieved to be let in. Maybe this was the next leg of her journey.
“Whatever you got you best grab it now, we’ll be heading back past where you said you came from. I know a place a few day’s walk where we could go.” Yeah, if they’ll take us, he thought to himself. He had no idea how welcoming the group at the prison may be, but part of him was glad at the idea of going back. Maybe being on his own was a death sentence. If he and Cassie could make it back to the prison alive, this might all be okay.