Stray // Daryl Dixon

Going Going Gone

Before the overwhelming need to sleep overtook us last night, Rick finally joined the group to discuss some things he was thinking. He noticed that the majority of the walkers that remained within the central area of the prison were either dressed in guard uniforms or inmate attire, meaning that this facility had gone down in the earlier days of the outbreak. On that fact alone, this prison could be a gold mine for us; food, artillery, infirmaries, commissaries. All we had to do was muster up enough faith in ourselves to take it.

We were scared of just how many walkers we were going to have to encounter to fully claim this place as our own, but we were in no way prepared or wanting to hit the road again.

I currently tapped the heel of my foot on the stone pathway leading up to the second gate, anxiously waiting for my cue from Rick. The sun was hot and high in the sky today for the first time in months, shedding light on just how many walkers limped around in the courtyard. We made sure to review our formation again before entering, setting up a plan for who should be where.

Rick held onto the gate, unclipping one of the clasps of the bungee cord before glancing over his shoulder at us.

"You ready?" he asked, scanning over those who stood behind him. Our weapons were at the ready, I nodded yes.

Rick then swiftly screeched the gate over, drawing the attention of the dead on the other side. T-Dog went in first with Daryl staggered slightly behind him to his right, to defend him. Good old fashion T-Dog went in shouting as he stabbed his fire iron through the closest walker's head, causing a splatter of blood to go flying. Glenn and Maggie then filter in through the gate followed by Rick and me at the back.

"Daryl!" Rick called out, drawing his attention to a hissing walker that came snapping at him from his right. With one swift motion, Daryl sunk his knife vertically down on the walker's skull, nearly splitting it in half.

The one good thing about these walkers is that they have been dead for a while, making their body parts a lump of rotting flesh. It was easier to pierce through their skull, it didn't take as much force to kill one as a freshly dead walker would.

We stood in our best-kept circle, pushing forward and allowing us to kill a walker from any direction. I walked on the left side, sidestepping my way through the courtyard behind Maggie. A large walker approached me, what looked to be a burly inmate that spent most of his days lifting weights in the gym. The walker reached its tattoo-covered arms out towards me, snapping and grinding his teeth in preparation to bite whatever it could get its mouth on.

"Scar!" Daryl shouted from behind me, watching me struggle as I placed my left hand on its stomach to distance it from me. He towered over me and I could tell by the group's reaction they were worried if I could handle myself. Using my much smaller stature to my advantage, I released my hand off his stomach and allowed the walker to collide with me before thrusting my crowbar through the bottom of its jaw. The crowbar lodged its way through the walker's mouth, finally silencing its unfaltering moans, and pierced through the top of its head. Although, this then caused a string of gooey blood-filled saliva to pool down on the roots of my hair.

"Motherfucker," I exhaled, kicking the walker down to the ground. The smell of it in my hair made my eyes water from how pungent it was. I could hear a small snicker come from Rick and Daryl before they snapped back into action.

We stabbed, slashed, and hacked in a repetitive motion, taking down the walkers one by one. Surely enough, it was helping that the remainder of the group stood against the fence shouting and rattling the chain links to draw more walkers over so they could puncture them through the holes.

"We're almost there!" Rick shouted. We continued to push forward towards another gate. We were about to round a corner, Rick quickly swung open a metal door to the inside of the prison to make sure there was nothing inside. The entrance was empty so we continued to proceed forward. Rick stuck his neck around the side of the wall before slamming his back up against the concrete. He reached his arm out, shushing us and motioning for us to get out of sight.

Daryl grabbed the back of my leather jacket, yanking me against the wall before I could be seen. He pressed his index finger to his lips, while his other arm lay draped over my chest to hold me back against the wall. My breath hitched in my throat from his touch. What the hell was happening to me? We were out of breath and trying to regain the air in our lungs when we spotted four walkers come rounding a dumpster from across the courtyard. They looked like what used to be part of a swat team, dressed head to toe in heavy gear.

Daryl stepped forward, his crossbow at the ready, yet still standing close enough to the wall that the multitude of inmate walkers around the corner couldn't see him. Clearly catching a whiff of our scent the walker's pace quickened, causing Daryl to send off an arrow to try and stop them. Although, the guarded face masks they were wearing caused the arrow to simply ricochet off, snapping in half before hitting the floor.

This left us no choice but to make ourselves known to all the walkers. Rick charged forward at the first one, the only way to kill these guards was to lift the masks and get them from underneath the chin. Being the last one in our formation from Daryl holding me back, I went to sneak up and help Glenn before another walker stepped out in front of me, creeping out from the door that Rick previously cleared.

The walker bodied me from the side, it was a large swat team member with a gas mask attached to its face. Reacting quickly enough I placed both my hands on its shoulders, but that also resulted in me having to drop my weapon to get a good grip. The strength of this thing was unmatched by any walker I have come in contact with before. He easily pushed my body backward, shoving me in directions that his footing stumbled towards. His hands grabbed at my chest as I held onto him, trying to keep him away while also trying my hardest not to lose my footing. His claws scratched at me just centimetres from my skin before he hooked his nails around my dog tags, ripping them off.

"Help!" I screamed, unable to hold the walker off of me any longer. I peered around its body, looking for anyone who heard me. I locked eyes with Daryl, "Daryl!" I screamed once more. My foot then caught on a dead body, sending me into a stumble backward. There was no catching myself as the walker's weight went down with me, pushing so hard against my body that I smacked my head against the concrete.

I felt a sharp, sinking sting in the left side of my neck, blacking out from the pain. I was bit for sure.