In the Very End: Book One

Chapter 18

*WARNING: Please be advised that this chapter contains mature content and strong language.*

Chapter 18
Quinn's POV

Daryl and I had been walking through the woods for at least half an hour. It was getting cold and dark. I could just barely see my breath as I huffed.

"This is pointless," Daryl said. "You got a light?"

I fiddled for the flashlight before turning it on and handing it over to Daryl. He took it and shined it on the ground. Daryl grunted with annoyance before turning around and yelling over his shoulder for me to follow. We walked all the way back to where Shane had taken us before.

"Just back to square one," I pointed out.

"If you're gonna do something, might as well do it right."

We kept moving, this time in a different direction. I pulled out a second flashlight from my pocket that was a lot smaller and didn't provide a lot of light. We walked for a while longer before something caught my eye.

I pointed to the ground. "Two sets of tracks right here. Shane must've followed him a lot longer than he said."

"There's some blood on this tree," Daryl added. "More tracks; looks like they were walking in tandem."

I nodded and followed after him. Something cooed behind me and I turned to see what it was. I bumped into Daryl. He looked over his shoulder at me.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"Little dust up right here," he said, pointing down to some ruffled up dirt.

"What are you implying?" I asked.

"Somethin' went down," he said, walking forward again. "Hello trouble," he said as we approached Randall's gag.

I lifted it off the ground but quickly dropped it as we heard something crunch. Daryl and I stood against opposite trees, peering around them. It was a walker. Daryl whistled quietly and tossed me the flashlight. I clipped it back onto my hip and unsheathed my knife.

Daryl gave me a slight nod before I turned to kill it. I stopped and looked the walker in the eyes. This was no ordinary walker; it was Randall. He hissed at me and pushed me to the ground. He lunged at me, but I kept my feet extended so he didn't get to close.

I heard an arrow being fired, but Randall didn't go limp. I kicked him off of me and regained my posture. I realized Randall was now pushing Daryl against the tree. I pulled him off of Daryl and fell to the ground by the force it put on me. I rolled over and straddled over him, finally putting my knife through his skull. I stood up, heavily breathing.

"Nice," Daryl said, elbowing me playfully.

I gave him a flashlight and we checked Randall for bites.

"He got his neck broke, but he ain't got no bites," Daryl informed.

"How could he have turned without a bite or scratch? Are you sure?"

Daryl flipped Randall over and checked his back. "No. I'm tellin' ya, he died from this."

"How is that possible?"

Daryl stood and grabbed my arm. "C'mon, let's head back."

As we walked back to camp, I didn't let go of Daryl's arm.

"Damn, woman. You got one hell of a death grip."

"Sorry," I said, loosening my hands. "Not a fan of the dark."