SURVIVE.
❝ Let the end of the world be
inside you, then you don't
need to fear the end
of the world out there. ❞
THE WALKING DEAD.
DARYL DIXON.
BOOK ONE of the LANCASTER SAGA.
[ SEASONS 1 - 3 ]
******
I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its...
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[ xviii. highway to hell ]
october 29th, 2010
➸➸➸
TWO DAYS HAD PASSED since the fall of the CDC.
In those two days, Astrid and the others struggled day in and day out, facing an onslaught of challenges, one after another. Hunger gnawed at their insides, shelter was a fleeting luxury, and the relentless pursuit of the undead shadowed their every step. Gasoline, too, had become as precious as gold, and it quickly forced the group to make the difficult decision of leaving behind half of their initial car caravan—which included Daryl's truck. Now, with only a half-operable RV for its capacity, a motorcycle for its flexibility, and a lone Cherokee Jeep for its normalcy, their vehicles were fragile treasures of an almost-lost transportation.
Now, despite Daryl losing his certainly more protected truck, Astrid chose to stick with the hunter for a ride—and he chose to stick with her for company. She now found herself holding onto his bare arms as they sped down the open freeway out of the city. The weight of responsibility rested heavily on their shoulders as it was they who led the three-vehicle caravan onward. Most of the remaining group was crammed into the RV directly behind them. Rick, Lori, Carl, Sophia, and Carol were left to take up the rear in the Jeep.
At first, Astrid had been hesitant about riding on Daryl's motorcycle, fearing its vulnerability to attack, but the urgency of their situation left her with little choice—that and her refusal to cram into an RV already holding five other stressed adults. However, to Astrid's relief, the further they ventured from Atlanta, the fewer walkers they seemed to encounter. She had to hope it would remain that way.
"Do you think the freeway is the safest option to travel?" Astrid eventually said to Daryl, tone straining to be heard over the roar of the bike.
The hunter shrugged lightly under her touch. "Can't be worse than what we've already seen."
Astrid brushed a stray piece of hair from her face, but the wind only continued to mess it up, so she soon decided to forgo the fight entirely. The motorcycle roared louder as Daryl pressed down on the gas, urging them faster down the open road. A stillness enveloped them like a shroud, neither of them uttering a word for nearly twenty minutes. But Astrid found that she welcomed the solitude to sort through her thoughts and plan for their future, for the group's next move. They needed a sanctuary—a place they could finally call home—and she could only hope that Fort Benning held the promise of the refuge they so desperately sought.
Abruptly, Daryl tensed. "Damn it," He growled.
"What?" Astrid asked, perplexed by the hunter's sudden shift.
"Up ahead," He clipped. "Check it out."
Astrid sat up straighter and peered over Daryl's left shoulder. Rising quickly in the distance, a barricade of abandoned and overturned vehicles obstructed their path. In fact, both sides of the interstate were nearly entirely blocked. The motorcycle decelerated as they approached the snarl of cars. Astrid's grip automatically tightened on Daryl's leather vest. "We should see what the others think," She suggested.
